I am in here.
I have finished Mary Karr‘s Lit, minutes before Sally and Other Patti came over for our usual Movie Night. I usually don’t use the word “harrowing” when talking about — well, anything — but that is an adequate adjective here. There is probably a better adjective, but I cannot come up with one on the … Continue reading Done with Lit. Next, This Boy’s Life
Mary Karr (whose Lit I have been reading obsessively rather during these last couple of days) and Christopher Robinson read and discuss Czesław Miłosz‘s “Late Ripeness.” I had not known about this series of webcasts on Youtube, but am now going to check it regularly. MK and I were poetry geeks growing up, both of us. … Continue reading Some Czesław Miłosz to start off the new year
Wandering around the house this afternoon dragging around a chihuahua attached to my foot — Peter is away for New Year’s and left her in our care and she loves to attack my feet as I walk — I thought (among many other things, mostly to do with chihuahuas) that it would be lovely to … Continue reading The first day of the year
When I was young and still Catholic and still fully believing in the Jesus and the God that the Church had fully encased in its teachings, I used, at night, when I was too full of anxiety and dread to get to sleep by imagining that I was held in the cupped hands of an … Continue reading Sleeplessness, or lack thereof.
white pebble 