Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Dance of the (not-yet-bald) bald eagle

A few weeks ago, Matt and I took a weekend trip out of the city with a couple of friends. The trip was exactly what you'd want a weekend in the woods to be: fun, relaxing and invigorating. But there was one moment that stood out above all others, a real highlight to the weekend. And that was when we witnesses the arial dance of a beautiful bald eagle.

His head was not yet white, so he was not yet five years old, but the folks we were with, animal experts to say the least, identified him right off the bat by his size and bright yellow feet. And for about a half an hour, we watched him fly in swoopy dips and circles around the tree tops. He was so graceful! Every once in a while, he'd land-- usually on the tip of the highest branch and look down on us. Maybe he was determining if we'd be too heavy snatch up for lunch.... or maybe he wanted to show off his fantastic skills to people who would be awe-struck by him... or maybe he was asking us to stop our yammering and camera clicks, as we were clearing out his hunting grounds. Regardless, I think we all shared a 'moment'.

I have seen bald eagles before, and every time feels special. And while I absolutely love turkeys (proven by several past posts), and I think they would have represented this country with great nobility,  I do get why Ben Franklin lost out when he voted against the eagle as America's national bird. Eagles have a wonderful mix of strength, beauty, agility, ferocity, power, majesty and, yes, freedom. Wonderful ideals for a country...  but much harder to live up to than the eagle makes it seem.

Our photos are not fantastic, as we have a little point-and-click and it was all the way zoomed out-- but you'll get the idea. I wish they showed his size a little better, as it is hard to get a sense of scale from the shots we have.  But I don't think that even a photographer for National Geographic could fully capture the moment. This was one of those rare magic times when you just had to be there...



Monday, April 11, 2011

Another Hobbit House

I keep bumping into these articles online, about people who build actual structures based on ones from fiction. Here is an article about a man who hired what looks like a very skilled crew to build a hobbit house in which to store his collection of Tolkien-y tidbits. It is beautiful! I'd spend an afternoon or two sitting by the hearth with a good book and snacking on biscuits!

I've taken a few photos from the article, linked below. Check it out if you're interested in how the house was built, or what materials were used.







Friday, April 8, 2011

The Barrister's Dream

  • by Lewis Carroll



    • They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
    • They pursued it with forks and hope;
    • They threatened its life with a railway-share;
    • They charmed it with smiles and soap.
    • But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
    • That the Beaver’s lace-making was wrong,
    • Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
    • That his fancy had dwelt on so long.
    • He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
    • Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
    • Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
    • On the charge of deserting its sty.
    • The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,
    • That the sty was deserted when found:
    • And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law
    • In a soft under-current of sound.
    • The indictment had never been clearly expressed,
    • And it seemed that the Snark had begun,
    • And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed
    • What the pig was supposed to have done.
    • The Jury had each formed a different view
    • (Long before the indictment was read),
    • And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew
    • One word that the others had said.
    • “You must know—” said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed “Fudge!
    • That statute is obsolete quite!
    • Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends
    • On an ancient manorial right.
    • “In the matter of Treason the pig would appear
    • To have aided, but scarcely abetted:
    • While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,
    • If you grant the plea ‘never indebted’.
    • “The fact of Desertion I will not dispute:
    • But its guilt, as I trust, is removed
    • (So far as relates to the costs of this suit)
    • By the Alibi which has been proved.
    • “My poor client’s fate now depends on your votes.”
    • Here the speaker sat down in his place,
    • And directed the Judge to refer to his notes
    • And briefly to sum up the case.
    • But the Judge said he never had summed up before;
    • So the Snark undertook it instead,
    • And summed it so well that it came to far more
    • Than the Witnesses ever had said!
    • When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
    • As the word was so puzzling to spell;
    • But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn’t mind
    • Undertaking that duty as well.
    • So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,
    • It was spent with the toils of the day:
    • When it said the word “GUILTY!” the Jury all groaned,
    • And some of them fainted away.
    • Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite
    • Too nervous to utter a word:
    • When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,
    • And the fall of a pin might be heard.
    • “Transportation for life” was the sentence it gave,
    • “And then to be fined forty pound.”
    • The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared
    • That the phrase was not legally sound.
    • But their wild exultation was suddenly checked
    • When the jailer informed them, with tears,
    • Such a sentence would not have the slightest effect,
    • As the pig had been dead for some years.
    • The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:
    • But the Snark, though a little aghast,
    • As the lawyer to whom the defence was intrusted,
    • Went bellowing on to the last.
    • Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
    • To grow every moment more clear:
    • Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
    • Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.


Oh what fun! I recently added this book to my collection after finding it in the same fantastic little bookshop that I found my Field Guide to the Little People, (Downtown's The Last Book Store).  This book is full of Carroll's 'nonsense poems' and fantastic illustrations by Aldren Watson. Watson's woodcuts are wonderful-- I would hang his works on any wall in my home-- and they fit Carroll's wacky words to a T (or maybe to a W).

I have a peculiar relationship with the works of Lewis Carroll. I acknowledge the genius. I appreciate the whimsy. I adore the culture. But I am not truly devoted to them. (You can visit this idea more in my post about Alice). There is something distinctly not warm and fuzzy about Carroll's writings, something that unsettles me. I think that is why I find his style so suited for topics like lawyering and banking-- both topics in The Hunting of the Snark and both utterly not warm and fuzzy. 

Regardless, this gem of Lewis Carroll's has brought me more happiness than I thought. And I admit that I have chortled more than once!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Gothic Flowers

I'm making the hero of my story venture through a spooky and beautiful garden. I had the whole thing imagined in my head, but when it came to writing it down, it all seemed to generic. In order to describe the scene properly, I needed to look at some of the strange flowers I saw in my mind's eye. This meant a trip to the Botanical Gardens or searching online. I choose the lazy route, with promises to myself that I will go to the garden once my semester is complete.

Below are my favorites-- the fruits of my laborious online search. They are all real plants with real names (which I realize now that I should have noted as I gathered the images- would have been good to share). I remember a few of them, the calla lilies, the dahlia, the fiddlehead fern, and one looks like an iris. I know for sure that the last image is the corpse flower (and since I don't have a great fondness for the aroma of rotting meat, it's the only one that I would leave out of my real gothic flower garden, once I plant one, that is). If you know the names of any others, I'd love it if you educated me! (Especially the 7th picture, I love those!) 

But even without knowing their names, I fell in love with their look. They are dark and twisty, spiky and swirly, droopy and fuzzy, fierce but also quite delicate. They helped clarify what I wanted to write and inspired me anew, for now, instead of passing through, I have created a reason for my hero to spend a bit more time amidst the gothic flowers-- and these blooms perfectly set the eerie tone with their spindly shapes, strange textures and lovely shades of purple, blue and burgundy. 




















Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Gym Visualization Exercises

If it weren't for Matt, I would never...ever...go to the gym. I know this for fact. I like to exercise. And I don't mind the gym, I actually like it there, and I love the way I feel afterwards. But getting there? Ugh. And getting there early in the morning, when I could be tucked in my bed snuggling with Linus?? Hate it!

So Matt's been helping me wake it up and move it on out in the morning. But even with his coaxing and 'atta-girls' I still stumble into the gym all yawns and blurry-eyes. How on earth do you go from that to pumping iron and running laps? Usually I just suck it up and start slow until I get into it, wasting half of my workout dragging my feet. This morning, however, I told Matt that I needed something to ease my body into the whole gym scene. And he came up with the perfect solution... a visualization exercise.

I laid down on the floor mat and closed my eyes, as instructed.  So far, not staying off the sleepiness. I listened as Matt unfolded a beautiful scene in front of me. A scene tailored just for me. A scene so great that I would rather be picturing it than sleeping! I am a little embarrassed to share the details, because they reveal a little too much about what gets me going (not in a pervy way, just a "I'm-ready-to-get-moving" way). But I will say that by the end of the exercise, I was running and playing with a brown bear and a flock of blue birds in a meadow of wild flowers. Yes. I am a dork. And yes, my hubby will do just about anything for me ;)

The great thing was, it worked. By the time I was supposed to open my eyes, I was all ready to run and jump and get the heart pumping.  I will admit that I was sad to replace the scene in my head with gym equipment and morning exercisers, but soon I got over it and into my own workout.  Besides, I am sure I can visit again during my next a.m. workout.

Joining the RoW 80 Writing Challenge

I'm doing my first writing challenge, directed by A Round of Writing in 80 Days. The basic idea is that all participants set themselves measurable writing-related goals and then check in twice a week to share how they are coming along. Since I get to make my own goals, for this first round I am setting the bar pretty low. I want to meet or exceed my own expectations (and I need to finish law school in the next 80 days... which is kind of time consuming). So here are my writing goals for the next 80 days:

1. Plot out the whole saga
    Sit down for an hour each weekend morning until I have finished. 

2. Finish my origin story
    After plotting is complete, use the weekend morning time to continue origin story. 
  
3. Write out a scene for review
     Already started this, I have 11 pages (woo-hoo!) New goal is to add 250 words a day      (about a page). Modest compared to what I've seen of others!

4. Spend the last month of the challenge editing what I have
    Two passes. 


This seems doable. If I stay on track, by the time this challenge is over, I will have edited versions of a completely plotted out adventure, a finished origin story and a 'chapter' to hand off to my professor (who has a successful series of adventure fiction under her belt) who has agreed to help tune my writing style. For me, that's a great start!

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

My Favorite Blogs

Some knit. Some write. Some travel. Some take lovely pictures. And most of them are obsessed with their pets. These blogs are a few of the online places where I find more happy. (and whimsy, insight, art and nature!) If you have an hour (or several hours) to explore, I recommend visiting each and every one... in no particular order.

http://needled.wordpress.com/

http://scotland4thesenses.blogspot.com/

http://www.nearsightedowl.com/

http://craftygreenpoet.blogspot.com

http://walkandalie.com/

http://unusuallife.com/

http://owlinthedark.blogspot.com/

http://builderofworlds.wordpress.com/


http://herminesplace.wordpress.com/

Art from the last blog listed!


Monday, April 4, 2011

Coraline

If you haven't already... see this movie.

I'm not much for reviewing movies. I'm too lazy to write what the story was about or what made it so good (totally unfair of me, since I do love reading the reviews of others). But I will say this much: Coraline had a great mix of light and dark moments, and truly embraces the bizarre (like any good children's movie should!)

Not enough information to get you to place it on your Netflix list? OK, here are my five favorite things about Coraline:

1. Beet-eating gymnast

2. A scrawny black cat as the hero

3. Glowing magical flower gardens

4. Massive-breasted, over-the-hill divas with ghost dogs

 5. A mechanic chicken that poops out popcorn!


Surely you are convinced now! Here's a few pictures to increase your intrigue-




Coraline: How can you walk away from something and then come towards it?
Cat: Walk around the world.
Coraline: Small world. 

Painted wood floors





Sunday, April 3, 2011

Another commercial...

I feel a little lame when I post commercials, but there are a few that I really find happy! And usually, I don't remember a what the commercials are actually advertising (I shared a post about a bunch of happy animals all getting along and I have no recollection what the commercial was selling!).

This ad is so fun and lovely. And, I love the song, too. If I did my wedding over again, I might copy their post-ceremony get away idea... so sweet!   

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Journeying through Middle Earth: The Fellowship of the Ring


Last night, Matt and I finished the first of The Lord of the Rings 'Trilogy'. We had a party, we inherited a Ring. We journeyed from the Shire across the Brandywine to Buckland. We met old Tom Bombadill and his wife, Goldberry, in the Old Forrest (and again when we were attacked in the Barrow Downs). We sang. We made it to the Prancing Pony in Bree (where we sang) and added Strider and Bill the Pony to our group.  We searched for signs from Gandalf on Weathertop and were attacked by Black Riders, twice, on either side of the Last Bridge. Injured, we crossed the Ford of Bruinen and rested in Rivendell.  We healed, we saw Bilbo, we got Gandalf back, we sang, and we found out the Strider is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. We discussed the heaviness of this burdensome quest, and then met the rest of our Fellowship. 

We left Rivendell as 9, and spent some nights fighting off Sauron's wolves. We tried to cross the Misty Mountains over the High Pass, but could not. We ventured to the Gates of Moria and sadly left Bill the Pony behind.  We waned through the dark mines, we saw the tomb of Balin, we fought a pack of orcs and then we lost our wisest leader to the Balrog on the Bridge of Khazad-Dum.

We hurried through the Drimrill Dale and sought refuge in beautiful Lorien. We sang. We slept on flets and met the Elf Queen Galadriel. She gave us gifts. A month we stayed, and then left by elven boats, south on the Silverload to Anduin. She sang. We knew we were followed. We camped on the shores and stood watch. We traveled by night and were attacked by orcs who could not see us, we nearly went over the rapids and falls of Sarn Gebir and Rauros. We carried our boats over Emyn Muil. We had to decide if the Fellowship should split, some venturing on to Mordor or if we should all head to Minas Tirith. We were attacked my a member of the Fellowship. We saw the eye. We decided to go to Mordor alone. We were foiled by Sam. We two set out together, leaving the other 6 behind.


Where do we go next? 



Friday, April 1, 2011

Happy Birthday Fred & George

Of course Fred and George Weasley were born on April 1st, they were pranksters and mischeif makers from the start. So today we say 'Happy Brithday' to the greatest ginger twins in all of storyland.


Adorable! Molly mama and Baby F & G! There's no way I can claim to be a super fan when there are fans making this kind of art!

I love the smiles!
And for anyone who only know of Fred and George through the movies (tsk, tsk) here they are, from Sorcerer's Stone to Deathly Hallows 1 (we cannot bear to think of the picture from Deathly Hallow 2 on this happy day).



Hope their birthday's a blast!


Mischeif managed.

The strangest day!

Today has been the strangest day! The kitty boys woke me and Matt up extra early, they were going frantic and we didn't know why. We tried to ignore them and get a few more minutes of sleep, but when Linus, Sherpa and OB yowled their fiercest hunter's cry and pounced on the same spot, at the same time, we knew there was something out of the ordinary about their wild behavior.

I got up to investigate, shooed all three boys out of the way, and couldn't believe my eyes! They had trapped a tiny yellow finch behind my dresser!!! Never in all my time living in the city, have I had a bird fly into my house (back at my parent's place it happens about once a year, so I kind of knew what to do).  Matt grabbed the boys and put them in another room. I know, they get so little excitement it was almost cruel to keep them from witnessing our rescue of the bird, but the poor feathered thing looked frightened enough- he certainly didn't need three more predators breathing down his neck.

With a small towel, I reached my hand behind the dresser and picked up the finch. He was frozen in fright. Matt and I took a closer look while he was in my hand, he didn't move a muscle or blink an eye. His feathers were mostly the color of a soft lemon cream, with markings on the back of his head in variations of gray and black. (We took a picture, but are no longer in possession of our camera, but he looked a lot like this bird I found in a Google image search). 


As I looked at him, I noticed he had something in his mouth, something he clutched tightly in his beak. It looked like metal. I thought for a moment that I should remove it, it was probably garbage,  but decided I ought not, for fear he might swallow it. 

It was time to set him free. Matt and I stepped out on to our balcony and I opened up the hand towel so that the little bird could fly away. We could hear all three boys scratching on the other side of the bedroom door, demanding to be let in. The little bird lay still in my hand for a few moments, then he flicked about his head and popped up onto his feet, and flapped off of my hands.

He didn't fly away, not quite yet. He hovered around our balcony for a minute. Matt thought he was "testing his wings" to make sure nothing was injured in his misadventure with the cats, but I thought there was something strange about this. I set down the towel and reached out my bare hand toward the little bird, and he flew back to me. He didn't land on me though. He flew over my hand and dropped something onto my palm, and then he flew away so quickly that we couldn't see for sure in which direction he left.

In my hand was the thing the little bird held in his mouth. I thought it was a metal bead, but Matt said it looked more like a gold seed. Either way, it was very pretty. It must of been his way to thank us, we figured, and we returned the sentiment by calling out "thank you too" into the morning air and went on our usual business. Besides, someone was going to call the police if we didn't tend to our cats, with all the noise they were making. As it is, we'll have to replace the bedroom door- unless the next tenants like the look of claw marks. We tried to make up with the boys but they were furious at us both. They all sat together and pouted, and none of them would look us in the eye...

This is a similar to the treatment we were given this morning. This picture was taken a few weeks ago though, after we would not allow the boys to sit on top of the flat screen TV.  The photo from this morning was, unfortunately, lost.

Over coffee, Matt and I joked that the gold seed would sprout gold coins and that the little bird's gift was our ticket to getting rich. So, for fun, I placed the little gold seed in with the potted houseplant on my desk and got ready for work.  Matt had today off but he had a busy day planned, so we left together. After such an unusual morning, you'd think the rest of today would be your run-of-the-mill day, but it wasn't.

I was supposed to work until 4:30, but around noon my boss said I could go home. Apparently, the event I was going to cover was cancelled due to severe weather conditions. Strange, since it was 90 degrees and blue skies outside. But not wanting to question a Friday afternoon out of the office, I packed up my computer and left. I called Matt to tell him I was heading home and he offered to pick me up, as he finished his errands early as well. What a treat! I hoped that I would be able to steal an afternoon nap (since we were up so early!) but I knew Matt was going to guilt me into heading to the gym! Regardless, we were both happy to get home at such an early hour. 

When we walked through the door, none of the boys greeted us, not even Sherpa who acts like front door greeting is his most important job. We agreed that the boys must still be mad about being locked out during this mornings bird rescue. But once we put our bags down and called for them and still didn't see them, we decided to go hunt them down and smother them with kisses. Not under the dining table... not behind the couch... we headed for the bedroom. On the way down the hall, I passed by the office door first and glanced in. I screamed.

Matt rushed to my side. His eyes fell upon the same thing mine were fixated upon and he muttered barely audible curse words under his breath. Impossible. We looked at each other. What on earth had happened in here?

Growing from the pot that use to house only my wilting house plant, was a giant stalk. Like, a Jack and the Beanstalk sort of stalk. This thing was at least two feet wide. But it wasn't the width that freaked us out, it was the height. 

The stalk shot up straight through the ceiling. As we got closer and looked up through the hole it had made, we could see the stalk climbing through  toward the blue sky. Since we live on the third floor of a four story building, we were at first horrified about the damage this had caused the apartment above us, but once we noticed that the stalk had no visible end in sight- that it just kept climbing high into the sky as far as our eyes could see, we realized we had bigger things to worry about. 

We kept asking each other what this thing could be, and how it got here, when we both remembered the golden seed from this morning. I admitted that I had placed it in the very pot this enormous stalk grew from, and Matt gave me a stern look. As if I should have predicted this would happen! 

We bickered a bit, and then tried to think of what to do next. We decided that we couldn't cut it down, as it was too tall and would cause too much damage if it fell. We couldn't call the police, as they would certainly not believe us and find us crazy or believe us and somehow find us criminal--as I am sure a plant of this nature is not exactly legal. In the middle of our deliberations, Matt examined the base of the stalk, and said gravely... "We have to climb it."

He pointed out to me the one thing that would make me haul my butt up a magical plant that reached beyond the clouds... kitty claw marks.  Our boys had made the climb. We had to go get them.

I immediately grabbed on and tried to get my footing, but Matt stopped me and said we needed to gather a few supplies first.  He fetched a pair of binoculars, some water and a rope and stuffed them all into a pack. I added the camera (just in case) and our phones (you never know where you might get reception!) and a bag of Linus' favorite treats. We changed into shoes that were more suited for climbing, and he told me to wear a warm jacket, as it was sure to get cold the higher we climbed.

We had everything we could carry, and hurried to start our climb. I made Matt go first, as I trusted him to find the best sprigs and leaves to use for footing, and up we went.  It was like climbing up an uneven ladder.  We walked on through our ceiling and continued on through the apartment above ours (I always wondering what it looked like! Pretty much identical to ours only instead of having a giant stalk grown through their office, it was grown through their nursery! Fortunately, by the looks of things, everyone was out for the day). Once we got to the outdoors though, my stomach started to quiver.  There was nothing around us but open air and gravity! The further we climbed the farther the drop got, and the more my stomach flipped and fluttered.  

When we were at least three or four stories above the roof of our building, I stopped and thought about how absurdly dangerous this was.  I tried to yell to Matt that I wanted to return, but my voice got lost in the wind and he didn't hear me.  I took one step back down, and looked around me.  Cars driving below looked like toys and people like moving spots of color. I clutched the stalk dearly, and right in front of my nose was another set of cat scratch marks.  In fact, as I looked up and down the stalk, I saw more and more. 3 distinct sets; Sloppy, clumsy marks left by Sherpa, even, springy marks left by OB, and the deep-set and gimpish marks of Linus. With a deep breath, I continued my climb. Faster this time, and soon Matt and I were seriously high above the earth.  The stalk pierced through wispy, transparent clouds, and still we climbed.

This is the only photo from today that made it- Matt took it on his iPhone, looking up to what we had left to climb!

After hours of climbing, it started to get dark, and it looked like we were reaching the top. The girth of the stalk diminished slightly with each elevated foot and the plant swayed under our weight.  We had to be miles above ground! Finally, we saw the end of the stalk, and what appeared before our eyes was so fantastic, we nearly lost our grip on the vine and went tumbling down to earth. 

There, above the clouds, was a wonderous scene of blue and white with thousands of happy creatures frolicking and playing amidst cloud and sky. There were Koalas playing tag with chihuahuas, toucans flying figure eights with eagles, pot-bellied pigs dancing with swans, and closest to us we saw our boys wrestling playfully with a most adorable baby yak. And Linus, who was playing most spritefully, wore upon his blue-grey head, a golden crown. "Oh, it's beautiful," I said. Matt was speechless, a goofy smile appearing on his face. "Quick, give me my camera," I said to him, breaking his happy trance. I wanted to capture the scene, especially the group of toads that hopped in choreographed unison in the middle of a sparkling blue-green pond. Matt reached into his pack and pulled out our little camera and handed it to me. I began snapping photos of everything I could-- starting with the toads, and our boys with the yak. I then took pictures of the trio of marmosets sliding down a smiling giraffe's back and then a flock of fruit bats sharing the biggest pineapple I'd ever seen with an eldery panda couple. I took so many  wonderful pictures, but in my snapping frenzy I lost grip of our little camera and it plummeted down to the earth, taking the recorded images with it.

"Aw, shucks!" I exclaimed. "Now how is anyone going to believe this magical place?" We both looked at each other and then down the giant stalk from whence we came. "Well, " I said, "what do we do?  Should we grab our boys and head back down?" 

"Wait a minute," said Matt, gabbing my arm. "What if we don't go back? I mean, look at this place! We could just live here, couldn't we?!"

I hesitated, "What about law school? I love it so much, I don't know how I'd live without it!" At that we both exploded into laughter--the fullest most carefree laugh that anyone has ever laughed in the history of the world.  (So exhuberant, actually, we nearly lost our grip again.) 

And, so, still chuckling, we scrambled up the tip of the giant green stalk and tumbled onto the nearest soft, fluffy cloud. Sherpa, OB,  Linus (King of kitties) and our new yak-friend immediately joined the fray and we rolled around, pell mell, flipping and flopping  and frolicking about. When finally I stopped to catch my breath, I heard a faint chirping sound.  Looking up, I saw our little lemon-cream finch flitting around excitedly. He danced and dove in the sky above our heads, and I swear he had the biggest smile of welcome on his tiny beak.

And that's where we are to this very moment. This whole entry has been pecked out on Matt's iPhone (which has just about lost its charge...pity, no more posts or pictures from our magical utopia in the sky!)

I must go now, as Sherpa seems to be pinned down by a member of the flying fish quartet and I must go taunt him a bit.  And Matt is motioning me to join him in a swim in the Golden Grotto, where it looks like he wants to introduce me to a giant sea tortoise... Oh what a strange and marvelous day!


Happy April Fool's Day! 
hope yours was prank-tastic!

 

For more stories of real pranks and hoaxes pulled on this date through history, visit this blog. Enjoy! 


Thursday, March 31, 2011

Literary Map of United Kingdom

I love it! This wonderful map is worth a close look. I think I might have to buy it so that I can gaze at it enough to familiarize myself with the authors I haven't heard of. Edwin Morgan? Fanny Burney? So many I don't know!

I think it is a great oversight, however, that JK Rowling and James Joyce have been left off the map. These were to two omissions I noticed right away.  Where would we be without Dubliners and Ulysses? And I don't want to think about a world without Harry Potter, I don't even think I could! Anyone notice any other authors (from the British Isles, duh) who have been forgotten? I will write them in myself when I get my print.

I wonder if there is a map like this for the United States, or any other country. I would love a collection that shows the world through literature!

I found this great map on this blog, full of all kinds of fun posts-
and she found it from this shop, full of fantastic things for readers and writers.

Braids on the brain

Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou are sitting
Under glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lillies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-drooping hair.

                                           -John Milton









Romantic, summery, magical, messy & lovely... braids... plaits...trenzas. I want to wear my hair this way, but lack the dexterity and know-how! Anyone know a braid tutor??