Poem of the Week and Thoughts on November (+ links)

Given that November will end in only a few days, I feel okay giving a summary of the month today when I sort of have time. I’m going to try a new method of summarizing, we’ll see if it sticks.

November has been a long month. It feels like it’s been a million years since the beginning of the month. November stretches from hell week through midterms to Thanksgiving break. I desperately wanted to do NaNoWriMo but it simply wasn’t to be. I was able to find other ways to be creative and I had a good year at the craft fair even though it was quite a haul to get there. The weather was unseasonably warm for most of the month and once the play was over, I was able to find more time for myself. Here’s looking forward to December.

November by the Numbers
Number of times I felt like giving up – embarrassingly high
Number of nights I went to bed before midnight – maybe 5
Number of times I regretted ever signing up for theatre – so many
Number of successful performances of Flare Path – 3
Number of hours spent fighting with the printer – at least 12
Number of days I called in sick to work – 2
Number of classes I skipped – 1
Number of times I went from school to home or home to school – 6
Number of parents who visited me 3
Number of friends times I went out on the weekend – 1
Number of plays seen 2 (counting Flare Path)
Number of tests failed – miraculously 0
Number of overdue library books – 2
Number of late assignments – 0
Number of books read – 6
Number of things I have to be thankful for – too many to count

Poem of the Week

Barter
SARA TEASDALE
Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Links
StoryCorps is a national storytelling initiative
Top ten fictional weather events makes for fun reading
This food and travel blog has beautiful photos
I miss crocheting I don’t really have time but I can’t help but look atpinterest boards and dream
These little moles are so sweet

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Monday Morning

I am taking the morning off today, to eat sugary scones and think about nothing. After a few weeks of uncharacteristic warmth, the cold has finally hit with a vengeance. I’ve been thinking about the future this week, about what I want and where I’m trying to go. I have many things to be grateful for this week (and every other week), my family, my friends, my opportunities. This will be a week of celebrations.

Links:
These cloth tissue packs are simple but what a great idea
I want a yarn bowl for Christmas. I love this one but with my life, ceramic might be out of the question
It’s cookie season! My friends all tease me about being a snob with my “all natural” ramen and dislike of Kraft Mac and Cheese but when it comes to childhood favorites all bets are off (case in point: raspberry ribbon pie). I grew up in church basements and school bake sales and I am not above ooey-gooey cake mix bars.

Poem of the Week

November for Beginners
BY RITA DOVE
Snow would be the easy
way out—that softening
sky like a sigh of relief
at finally being allowed
to yield. No dice.
We stack twigs for burning
in glistening patches
but the rain won’t give.
So we wait, breeding
mood, making music
of decline. We sit down
in the smell of the past
and rise in a light
that is already leaving.
We ache in secret,
memorizing
a gloomy line
or two of German.
When spring comes
we promise to act
the fool. Pour,
rain! Sail, wind,
with your cargo of zithers!
November 1981
Source: Poetry (June 2012).

Sunday Funday

For the first time in weeks I feel like I might actually almost be on top of what I need to get done going into this week.

I’ve been thinking about tragedy probably more than I should in light of the deaths in Paris and the bombings in Beirut and everywhere else where people are losing their lives to senseless violence. There is no antidote to senseless violence but if there was, I would imagine that it would be purposeful kindness. With that in mind, I am resolved to do my part to be kind even when it is hard and perhaps especially then.

Links
I’m planning Thanksgiving dinner this week. It’ll be quiet this year, just three of us. I’m planning on making whole roasted cauliflower, corn bread,cranberry sauce, a vegetarian version of this stuffing, this turkey breast, the pie I mentioned yesterday and spiced cupcakes probably modified from this recipe which is always one of my go-tos.

Other recipes I’m feeling right now are these butter sandwich cookies and these glazed cookies.

After Flare Path, I’ve got the 40s on the brain. I’m loving this style board and this one with knitting. There were some really great sweaters going on.

Speaking of knitting, it’s yarn season. I’m making this scarf for my mum and when I finish that, it’s on to these gloves for my friend and this hat for our neighbors new baby.

It’s my baby sister’s birthday next week and I don’t know what to get her. I got her this book last year. I’ve been thinking about arts and crafts stuff. I remember loving this shrink plastic kit but it might be a little old for her. I’ll also be making cake of course. I’m hoping for something like thisfrosting wise.

I haven’t been reading lately but there are a lot of middle grade books on my to-read-list including The Glass Sentence, When You Reach Me, The Boundless, The Apothecary and many more. I also just finished Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo and it was great.

Poem of the Week
from The Hard Season by Kathleen Lynch

Don’t hold back now, have
chocolate, throw extra
kindling on, even though
skies urge cover & hoarding.
When mice pitter in
for crumbs, compliment
their small feet and fitting
ways. When your mouth
houses a curse, swallow,
think how you once
had no words at all
yet managed
your hungers.

Links and Thoughts

I’ve been incredibly busy for the past two weeks (or two months really) but I have gotten through midterms and the show I was stage managing closed last weekend. I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking through my life lightly and like I might finally be starting to wake up.

Links

A professional version of play I stage managed is actually touring in London right now.

Speaking of plays, I was reading about the Synetic version of the Tempestfor my design class, I would have loved to see it performed. And I’m still not over the Deaf West version of Spring Awakening which is another that I would love to see.

As the holidays approach, I have pie recipes on my mind. I’m thinking of trying a sort of sweet potato meringue this year as a sort of tribute to the sweet potato casseroles that graced our table as a child. I want to modify asweet potato soufflé recipe, put it in some sort of whole grain crust like this one or this one and top it with maple meringue.

Speaking of childhood recipes I have church cookbooks on the brain and I’m trying to replicate a tater-tot casserole that’s hard to forget.

I’m going to see a student production tonight, my friend is directing and it’ll be the first time I’ve gone out in over a month. I’m really looking forward to it.

Poem of the Week (+ poem of last week and links)

It’s hell week and I’m too tired to say anything interesting.

Links:
Recipes:
Cornmeal pound cake recipe
Bagel recipe
“Louisa’s cake” recipe

This Week’s Poem of the Week:

Approach of Winter
by William Carlos Williams
 The half-stripped trees
struck by a wind together,
bending all,
the leaves flutter drily
and refuse to let go
or driven like hail
stream bitterly out to one side
and fall
where the salvias, hard carmine,—
like no leaf that ever was—
edge the bare garden.

Last Week’s Poem of the Week:

Buckwheat
by Carl Sandburg
There was a late autumn cricket,
And two smoldering mountain sunsets
Under the valley roads of her eyes.
There was a late autumn cricket,
A hangover of summer song,
Scraping a tune
Of the late night clocks of summer,
In the late winter night fireglow,
This in a circle of black velvet at her neck.
In pansy eyes a flash, a thin rim of white light, a beach bonfire
ten miles across dunes, a speck of a fool star in night’s half
circle of velvet.
In the corner of the left arm a dimple, a mole, a forget-me-not,
and it fluttered a hummingbird wing, a blur in the honey-red
clover, in the honey-white buckwheat.
From Smoke & Steel