Thursday, December 1, 2022

Bright fish

Food for the body is not enough. There must be food for the soul.
~Dorothy Day

Happy Poetry Friday! Hope you are enjoying all the poetry to be found.

by John McCullough

It’s true: there is a light at the centre of my body.

If I could, I would lift aside a curtain of this flesh

and demonstrate, but for now it is my private neon.

It is closest to the air at certain moments,

like when buttercups repair a morning’s jagged edge.

Other times, a flock of days descends

and my soul flickers, goes to ground.

Without light, I’m all membrane; each part

becomes a gate. I pour across each margin

and nothing has enough hands to catch me,

my teeth knocking so fast I daren’t hold any piece

of myself near in case I start a banquet.

I’m only eased by accident. On the drenched path,

I pick up snails and transport them to safer earth

then feel a stirring. I watch as rain streams

from lopped-back elms, my face teeming with water

and―hello stranger―my soul glides to my surface

like it, too, belongs there; like a bright fish rising to feed.


Reading to the Core has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Catherine!


Light in Nature creates the movement of colors.
~Robert Delaunay

Hi y'all! Many things are competing for my attention this morning. Making a post for Art Thursday, of course, plus today is the first day for the advent calendar of jellies and I want to bake something to put jelly on. The dogs want to be fed and taken outside (did that) and the crows wanted breakfast (did that). I fixed myself some coffee, so I guess now I can post. (Ugh, the crows came back for second breakfast but I'm pretending not to hear...)

Light is our focal point today, but first, here's an advent calendar to color by "World of Moose":

Cabins at Night
by Svend Svendsen

Glowing Nocturne
by Svend Svendsen

Man Reading by Lamplight
by Georg Kersting

Monday, November 28, 2022


It's very easy to confuse Sean Connery with James Bond. Sometimes in the entertainment industry, people believe the cake is more real than the baker.
~Judd Nelson

Hi y'all! We watched No Time To Die recently (first for Dash and Elena, second for me and Ben). Daniel Craig is my favorite James Bond, and Skyfall is my favorite James Bond song. Do you have a different favorite? For Music Monday, I'm including two videos of the original version of the song -- one with only words and one with visuals from the movie.

Wednesday, November 23, 2022


wherewithal: resources (e.g. money, energy, time), means or supplies for the purpose or need

Hi buddies! I don't have the wherewithal to post the rest of this week. So I'm going to drop off another song and an invitation to send me your address if you'd like me to send you a holiday postcard or Christmas card. My email is tabathayeatts(at)gmail(dot)com. Happy Thanksgiving!

Monday, November 21, 2022

Tales of the Night Forest

The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.
~John Muir

An instrumental for Music Monday by Black Hill & Silent Island:

Thursday, November 17, 2022

The onion is in wonderment

He who sings scares away his woes.

Happy Poetry Friday! Two poems today. A Ukrainian children's song for the young-at-heart crowd and one for high school and up.

The Fish Was Dancing with the Crayfish

The fish was dancing with the crayfish,
And the parsley with the parsnip
And the onion with the garlic
And the girl with the Kozak!
The onion is in wonderment at
How good they were dancing.

The pumpkin walks around the garden,
Inquiring like this:
Oh, are they alive and healthy,
All my melon relatives?
The yellow melon answered,
Oh, I'm your hostess,
The cucumbers answered,
And we are your sons and daughters!

The beets answered,
Cousin pumpkins:
All are alive and well,
All your melon relatives.

Танцювала риба з раком,
А петрушка з пастернаком,
А цибуля з часником,
А дівчина з козаком!
Цибуля дивується,
Як хороше танцюється.

 Ходить гарбуз по городу –
 Питається свого роду:
 – Ой чи живі, чи здорові,
 Всі родичі гарбузові,
 Обізвалась жовта диня:
 – Ой я твоя господиня;
 Обізвались огірочки:
 – А ми твої сини й дочки!

 Обізвались буряки,
 Гарбузові свояки:
 – Усі живі і здорові,
 Всі родичі гарбузові!

by Jason Shinder

A poem written three thousand years ago

about a man who walks among horses
grazing on a hill under the small stars

comes to life on a page in a book

and the woman reading the poem
in her kitchen filled with a gold, metallic light

finds the experience of living in that moment

so vividly described as to make her feel known
to another, until the woman and the poet share

not only their souls but the exact silence

between each word. And every time the poem is read,
no matter her situation or her age,

this is more or less what happens.


Jama Rattigan has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Jama!

I tried to have the photo of the Ukrainian trident suncatcher link to the Etsy shop but it didn't work. Here's the link -- I love mine!

Julie de Graag

A picture is a secret about a secret, the more it tells you the less you know.
~Diane Arbus

For Art Thursday, Dutch artist Anna Julie de Graag, 1877–1924, and her marvelous woodcuts.

Winter Evening
by Julie de Graag

Dog Head
by Julie de Graag

East Indian Cherry
by Julie de Graag

Farm in the Snow
by Julie de Graag

East Indian Cherry
by Julie de Graag

by Julie de Graag