Poem of the Week: Ozymandias

Ozymandias

By Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

HT: Poetry Foundation

A Creative Outlet

 The joys of being a sixth child!

Oob asked if he could draw beards and mustaches on the outlets and I could not think of a reason to say no.

So I said yes.

I think you unwind a bit with each child, but I think I don't have much wind left.

Happy Memorial Day!

 With the garden in full bloom, it was an easy year to make bouquets to decorate the graves!

My dad has not been doing well.  No Covid problems, thankfully, but he's recovering from a bacterial infection and we didn't want to be away from the house for too long.

Now that's not something you hear often during lock down!   Where we are in Maryland, near DC, there are still high levels of virus circulating, so we are locked down at least through June1.

 With all that going on, we decided to just go to the close cemetery and not try for Arlington.

We really missed going with our cousins!

Still, it made us happy to think that they would come along later and see the flowers, and we connected by phone after the fact.

 It's been five years since my beloved MIL passed.  I still miss her so much.

Zorg told me that he now mostly just remembers happy times with her, so thinking of her makes him mostly happy and thankful.

I think most days that's true for me, too.

 And we came back and had a cookout with just the 10 of us. 

A quiet Memorial Day, for sure, but still fun!

Poem of the Week: Hope

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - (314)

By Emily Dickinson

 

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

HT: Poetry Foundation

Congratulations, Mxyl!

On Saturday, Mxyl graduated with his Bachelor's degree!

Wahoo!  That was a LOT of work, but he graduated Summa cum Laude.  Way to go Mxyl!

What with the pandemic and all, they had to cancel in the in person graduation, of course, but the online version has to be the best graduation I've ever attended. 

I don't know if it was because it was online, but all the speeches were very to the point, with really good advice and encouragement.



They had Mxyl send in a picture in advance, and they did the actual graduations as a slideshow with the names announced.

Very nice!

It's kind of a weird time to graduate, of course, but Mxyl has been busy doing freelance work designing websites and finishing up the post production on his second movie, Abydos 2.  Abydos (the first one) can be found here.

Wordless Wednesday: Flowers

Happy Anniversary!

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII

By Pablo Neruda

Translated by Mark Eisner

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   

or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   

I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   

secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   

the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   

and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   

from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   

I love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   

so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

HT: Poetry Foundation

More Birthdays!

 Last week was huge! 

I turned 50, my mom turned 75, and Mxyl graduated college!

My sweet sister had planned out a fancy tea party themed party (from all the way back in North Dakota).

She also sent me 50 things she loves about me and a slew of great books to read, and a fancy hat (she knows me so well!).

The emperor and the Zoomlians also gave me tons of great stuff, and Klenda and Leena baked and decorated this fabulous tea themed cake!

Best birthday ever!

Then Mumpy turned 75, and my sweet sister in law sent tons of cool presents.  Our favorite was this extremely cool sketch of a photo from shortly after Mumpy and Pa got married!

And we all had a great time showering her with presents and affection. 

My sister sent her 75 things she loved about her (how great a gift is that?!).

All in all it was Mumpy's best birthday ever, too!

Pa doesn't look pleased about the cake in the picture, but he actually liked it a lot!

Poem of the Week: I Loved You First

"I loved you first: but afterwards your love"

By Christina Rossetti

            Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda. – Dante          
            Ogni altra cosa, ogni pensier va fore,
            E sol ivi con voi rimansi amore. – Petrarca

I loved you first: but afterwards your love

Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song

As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.

Which owes the other most? my love was long,

And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;

I loved and guessed at you, you construed me

And loved me for what might or might not be –

Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.

For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’

With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,

For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’

Both have the strength and both the length thereof,

Both of us, of the love which makes us one.

HT: Poetry Foundation

From Google translate:

 Great flame follows a little spark. - Dante

Everything else, every thought goes out,
And just there with you remains love. - Petrarca

Images by me, from my garden.  Consider them a gift bouquet,  free to use if you like them!

Wordless Wednesday: May Crowning

More Quarantine Fun

We've been having lots of fun!  Choclo and Oob made a skit for us:


We finished our first ever 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.  I'd never done a wooden puzzle and they are sooo much nicer than the paper ones I've done all my life!


And we've been walking and hiking most days, so we've really gotten to see the spring come on.

And we've seen lots of birds, deer and other creatures!

So many nesting birds!

Besides the wren's nest in the mailbox, we have sparrow's and starling's nesting in different eaves, and crows nesting either on the roof or the tree next to the roof .  To put that in perspective, we live on less than a quarter acre!

We also have cardinals, mockingbirds, and mourning doves nesting nearby.  I've never seen so many nesting birds!

And I've been doing lots of gardening !

Happy Birthday, Oob!

Oob is a teenager!  He's also grown three inches in the last 6 months...

That means I have four teen children (and an equal number of adult children)!

13 Great Things About Oob

1. He is crazy about birds!

2. He loves to go biking and hiking.
2. He's a Minecraft master.
3. He is always willing to help out.
4. He's a very loving brother and son.
4. He likes to build contraptions.
5. He's a job thief!
5. He's a quick punster.
6. He's always up for an adventure.
6. He's a Lego master builder.
7. He's a good Scout!
8. He likes to cook.
8. He loves taking care of cute furry things.
9. He's really good at drawing complicated things.
9. He knows a LOT about birds. Like a crazy amount.
10. Like, definitely more than you think.
10. He has an eye for detail.
11. He tells great stories.
11. He likes to explore physically and intellectually.
12. He takes great care of Mike, and Mike loves him!
13. He is a great storyteller.
13. He loves God very much!

Poem of the Week: A Dandelion for My Mother

A Dandelion for My Mother

By Jean Nordhaus

How I loved those spiky suns,

rooted stubborn as childhood

in the grass, tough as the farmer’s

big-headed children—the mats

of yellow hair, the bowl-cut fringe.

How sturdy they were and how

slowly they turned themselves

into galaxies, domes of ghost stars

barely visible by day, pale

cerebrums clinging to life

on tough green stems.   Like you.

Like you, in the end.   If you were here,

I’d pluck this trembling globe to show

how beautiful a thing can be

a breath will tear away.