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.
Monday, November 28, 2022
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!
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:
~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.
~Cervantes
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!
Eternity
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!
~Cervantes
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!
Eternity
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
Ferns
by Julie de Graag
~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
Ferns
by Julie de Graag
Monday, November 14, 2022
Bagatelle
...music that was possibly the only consolation available for those who composed it during different periods in the tragic history of Ukraine.
~Pasichnyk's "Consolation"
Good morning! Madainn mhath! For Music Monday, I have Natalya Pasichnyk playing Valentyn Silvestrov's Bagatelle for piano, Op.1 No.1 Allegretto. I have shared Silvestrov before, but I wanted to revisit it. So pretty. This is on Pasichnyk's CD Consolation: Forgotten Treasures of the Ukrainian Soul.
~Pasichnyk's "Consolation"
Good morning! Madainn mhath! For Music Monday, I have Natalya Pasichnyk playing Valentyn Silvestrov's Bagatelle for piano, Op.1 No.1 Allegretto. I have shared Silvestrov before, but I wanted to revisit it. So pretty. This is on Pasichnyk's CD Consolation: Forgotten Treasures of the Ukrainian Soul.
Thursday, November 10, 2022
Healing serum
A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe.
~Dylan Thomas
Happy Poetry Friday, y'all! I didn't have a photo that went with these poems, so I just picked something off my camera. (I do that a lot, to be honest. It was between the above picture and one of a crow.)
I couldn't find the text for the below poems online so I typed them in. Such a good way to really get close to a poem. Less of a committment than trying to memorize it, but some bits will stay with you anyway. :)
Go Back to Your Own Country
by Jane Zwart
Let me tell you about countries: nobody has their own
and where we come from moves. Our mothers' wombs
aren't where we left them. Continents calve. Jerusalem holds
a tray full of glasses that a scrum of men take
and put back, take and put back, unworried for the weight
she must shift. Let me tell you: some of our countries
aren't where we left them. Someone pulls a string and six
tumble from Yugoslavia's pocket. Someone halves
Sudan like a branch over their knee. Someone crumbles
a bailey between Berlins and Germany is one place
again. Only Adam had his own country, and he could not
go back. A country is land that's learned to disown.
**********
Take Care
by Peter Pereira
Take care, we say to one another,
on parting, as if the cargo
we carried were fragile
or dangerous-- chipped
bottle of nitro, crystal
blue robin's egg, last ampule
of the healing serum.
**********
The Heart Does Not Really Have Chambers by Jane Zwart
Stay Tender Somehow by Jane Zwart
Fugue by Peter Pereira
Her Name is Rose by Peter Pereira (He's a doctor, btw. It's useful to know that re: the poem.)
Buffy Silverman has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Buffy!
~Dylan Thomas
Happy Poetry Friday, y'all! I didn't have a photo that went with these poems, so I just picked something off my camera. (I do that a lot, to be honest. It was between the above picture and one of a crow.)
I couldn't find the text for the below poems online so I typed them in. Such a good way to really get close to a poem. Less of a committment than trying to memorize it, but some bits will stay with you anyway. :)
Go Back to Your Own Country
by Jane Zwart
Let me tell you about countries: nobody has their own
and where we come from moves. Our mothers' wombs
aren't where we left them. Continents calve. Jerusalem holds
a tray full of glasses that a scrum of men take
and put back, take and put back, unworried for the weight
she must shift. Let me tell you: some of our countries
aren't where we left them. Someone pulls a string and six
tumble from Yugoslavia's pocket. Someone halves
Sudan like a branch over their knee. Someone crumbles
a bailey between Berlins and Germany is one place
again. Only Adam had his own country, and he could not
go back. A country is land that's learned to disown.
**********
Take Care
by Peter Pereira
Take care, we say to one another,
on parting, as if the cargo
we carried were fragile
or dangerous-- chipped
bottle of nitro, crystal
blue robin's egg, last ampule
of the healing serum.
**********
The Heart Does Not Really Have Chambers by Jane Zwart
Stay Tender Somehow by Jane Zwart
Fugue by Peter Pereira
Her Name is Rose by Peter Pereira (He's a doctor, btw. It's useful to know that re: the poem.)
Buffy Silverman has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Buffy!
Amongst a great flock
I am only a sparrow amongst a great flock of sparrows.
~Evita Peron
Hi folks! This has been such an eventful week that I dithered about what to post. So much going on! What's my theme, what's my feeling? I finally settled on just one picture by Ethel Franklin Betts. Maybe quiet time is in order.
The sparrows twittered and hopped about quite without fear
by Ethel Franklin Betts
~Evita Peron
Hi folks! This has been such an eventful week that I dithered about what to post. So much going on! What's my theme, what's my feeling? I finally settled on just one picture by Ethel Franklin Betts. Maybe quiet time is in order.
The sparrows twittered and hopped about quite without fear
by Ethel Franklin Betts
Monday, November 7, 2022
Dan Bettridge
The only thing better than singing is more singing.
~Ella Fitzgerald
Dan Bettridge for Music Monday:
~Ella Fitzgerald
Dan Bettridge for Music Monday:
Thursday, November 3, 2022
Interestedness beaming out
He is the recipient of such rebukes as You Never Want To Do Anything and All You Care About Are Your Stupid Clever Poems.
~Paul Hostovsky's bio
Happy Poetry Friday, friends! I've shared poems by sign language interpreter and poet Paul Hostovsky before, but that was in 2015 so I think we're due for another round!
Poem on the Fridge
by Paul Hostovsky
The refrigerator is the highest honor
a poem can aspire to. The ultimate
publication. As close to food as words
can come. And this refrigerator poem
is honored to be here beneath its own
refrigerator magnet, which feels like a medal
pinned to its lapel. Stop here a moment
and listen to the poem humming to itself,
like a refrigerator itself, the song in its head
full of crisp, perishable notes that wither in air,
read the rest here
************
Late for the Gratitude Meeting
by Paul Hostovsky
The guy in front of me in traffic
is letting everyone in,
waving at the cars like a policeman
or a pope--
and I really have no patience for all
the indulgence
and magnanimity at my expense
because I’m late for the gratitude meeting,
which is only an hour long.
And if I miss the first ten minutes
of silent meditation I’m going to scream,
because it’s my favorite part and because
it helps me remember to breathe.
And I’m going to throttle this guy...
read the rest here
************
Coconut
by Paul Hostovsky
Bear with me I
want to tell you
something about
happiness
it’s hard to get at
but the thing is
I wasn’t looking
I was looking
somewhere else
when my son found it
in the fruit section
and came running
holding it out
in his small hands
asking me what
it was and could we
keep it it only
cost 99 cents
hairy and brown
hard as a rock
and something swishing
around inside...
read the rest here
************
My Juicy Little Universe has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Heidi!
~Paul Hostovsky's bio
Happy Poetry Friday, friends! I've shared poems by sign language interpreter and poet Paul Hostovsky before, but that was in 2015 so I think we're due for another round!
Poem on the Fridge
by Paul Hostovsky
The refrigerator is the highest honor
a poem can aspire to. The ultimate
publication. As close to food as words
can come. And this refrigerator poem
is honored to be here beneath its own
refrigerator magnet, which feels like a medal
pinned to its lapel. Stop here a moment
and listen to the poem humming to itself,
like a refrigerator itself, the song in its head
full of crisp, perishable notes that wither in air,
read the rest here
************
Late for the Gratitude Meeting
by Paul Hostovsky
The guy in front of me in traffic
is letting everyone in,
waving at the cars like a policeman
or a pope--
and I really have no patience for all
the indulgence
and magnanimity at my expense
because I’m late for the gratitude meeting,
which is only an hour long.
And if I miss the first ten minutes
of silent meditation I’m going to scream,
because it’s my favorite part and because
it helps me remember to breathe.
And I’m going to throttle this guy...
read the rest here
************
Coconut
by Paul Hostovsky
Bear with me I
want to tell you
something about
happiness
it’s hard to get at
but the thing is
I wasn’t looking
I was looking
somewhere else
when my son found it
in the fruit section
and came running
holding it out
in his small hands
asking me what
it was and could we
keep it it only
cost 99 cents
hairy and brown
hard as a rock
and something swishing
around inside...
read the rest here
************
My Juicy Little Universe has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Heidi!
Creator of his own fantastic worlds
Watercolourist, illustrator and printmaker specialising in natural history subjects and the creation of his own fantastic worlds.
~ArtUK about Edward Julius Detmold
Happy Art Thursday! Today we have Edward Julius Detmold. I love his rich colors and dramatic perspectives.
The Fruits of the Earth
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from "The Fables of Aesop", 1909, Goats
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from "The Fables of Aesop", The Wasp and the Snake
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from Rudyard Kipling's "Junglebook", Shere Khan and bullocks
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from "The Fables of Aesop", The Wolf and the Goat
by Edward Julius Detmold
~ArtUK about Edward Julius Detmold
Happy Art Thursday! Today we have Edward Julius Detmold. I love his rich colors and dramatic perspectives.
The Fruits of the Earth
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from "The Fables of Aesop", 1909, Goats
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from "The Fables of Aesop", The Wasp and the Snake
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from Rudyard Kipling's "Junglebook", Shere Khan and bullocks
by Edward Julius Detmold
Plate from "The Fables of Aesop", The Wolf and the Goat
by Edward Julius Detmold
