E-systems

"Post everyone!"

2007-07-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

I am pleased to announce that after several months of silence, we will be back on the air.

...Everyting That Creeps Me Out...

2007-04-05T08:08:00.000-07:00

There's a face that we wear
In the cold light of day -
It's society's mask,
It's society's way,
And the truth is
That it's all a facade!

There's a face that we hide
Till the nighttime appears,
And what's hiding inside,
Behind all of our fears,
Is our true self,
Locked inside the facade!

Every day
People, in their own sweet way,
Like to add a coat of paint,
And be what they ain't!

That's how our little -
Game is played,
Living out a masquerade
Acting a bizarre charade -
While playing the saint!

But there's one thing I know,
And I know it for sure:
This disease that we've got
Has got no ready cure!
And I'm certain
Life is terribly hard -
When your life's a facade!

Look around you!
I have found
You cannot tell, by looking at the surface,
What is lurking there beneath it!
See that face!
Now, I'm prepared to bet you,
What you see's not what you get -
'Cause man's a master of deceit !

So, what is the sinister secret?
The lie he will tell you is true? -
It's that each man you meet
In the street
Isn't one man but two!

Nearly everyone you see -
Like him and her,
And you, and me -
Pretends to be
A pillar of society -
A model for propriety -
Sobriety
And piety -
Who shudders at the thought
Of notoriety!

The ladies and gents here before you -
Which none of them ever admits -
May have saintly looks -
But they're sinners and crooks!

Hypocrites!
Hypocrites!

There are preachers who kill!
There are killers who preach!
There are teachers who lie!
There are liars who teach!
Take your pick, dear -
"Cause it's all a facade!

If we're not one, but two,
Are we evil or good?
Do we walk the fine line -
That we'd cross if we could?
Are we waiting -
To break through the facade?

One or two
Might look kinda well-to-do -
Hah! They're bad as me an' you,
Right down they're boots!

I'm inclined to think -
Half mankind
Thinks the other half is blind!
Wouldn't be surprise to find -
They're all in cahoots!

At the end of the day,
They don't mean what they say,
They don't say what they mean,
They don't ever come clean -
And the answer -
Is it's all a facade!
Is it's all a facade!
Man is not one, but two,
He is evil and good,
And he walks the fine line
We'd all cross if we could!

It's a nightmare -
We can never discard -
So we stay on our guard -
Though we love the facade -
What's behind the facade?
Look behind the facade!

Good Day...

2007-01-27T00:33:00.000-08:00

2007-01-27T00:17:00.000-08:00

A little bit of library humor for you, courtesy of one of my professors last night. (And you thought librarians were just cranky. They can also be funny.)

He was working at the reference desk in the UNT library one day, when a (probably freshman) girl came in and asked for a picture of the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock for an assignment. He pointed her to the encyclopedia. She came back after a little while, and said "I guess these will work, but they’re paintings. I need a photograph."
To which he replied, "the Mayflower and all that was back in 1620, you know."
"So?" she said.
"Well, cameras weren’t invented until the 1850s."
"So?"
"So there weren’t any cameras or photographs until nearly 250 years after the Mayflower."
"You’re wrong." she said, "my assignment says a photograph."
She pulled out the paper, and sure enough– a photograph of the Mayflower.
"It must be a typo." he said, and called the instructor. What he got was a graduate student TA.
"Yeah?"
"I’ve got one of your students here in the library with a problem."
"Yeah?"
"Her assignment says she needs a photograph of the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock."
"So?"
"Cameras weren’t invented until 250 years after that."
"So?"
"So there are no photographs of the Mayflower!"
"Oh, ok."

Then after a pause,

"Do you think TWU would have any?"

for southern rights

2006-12-12T21:39:00.000-08:00

A Northerner, a Southerner and Heidi Klum are sitting together in a train going through the Rockies. Suddenly, the train goes through a tunnel and, being one of the older-style trains with no carriage lighting, it goes completely dark.

Suddenly there's a kissing sound, followed by the sound of a really loud slap.

When the train comes out of the tunnel, Heidi Klum and the Southerner are sitting as if nothing happened while the Northerner has a nasty red slap mark on his face.

The Northerner thinks, "The Southern fella must have kissed Heidi Klum and she missed him and slapped me instead."

Heidi Klum thinks, "The Northern fella must have tried to kiss me and actually kissed the Southern fella and got slapped for it."

The Southern fella says to himself, "This is great. The next time the train goes through a tunnel, I'll make another kissing noise and slap that Northerner again!"

the echo of the wedding bells

2006-12-10T23:26:00.000-08:00

Announcing another engagement!

See here or here for the details.

. . . play a song for me . . .

2006-12-04T23:57:00.000-08:00

Have you ever stopped to consider the beauty of listening to music through headphones? My parents made me a present of an mp3 player the other day, and I must confess that though I have been forceful in my condemnation of the use of headphones in society (and I still maintain that wearing them in public is rude and thoughtless, antisocial and inconsiderate, not to mention shallow and vain) I have found the undeniable attraction that they possess.

It isn’t just that the music is louder. They say that ipods and the like are going to produce an entire generation of deaf children. I’m all for loud music. If you’re going to listen to something, listen to it. But that is not what makes headphones amazing. I think it has more to do with the container of the music. I don’t mean the machine that’s playing it, I mean where the music is.

When Evan plays Les Miserables on the stereo at home, the music fills the boxes that are the rooms of this house, floating in the air so that you almost feel like you ought to be able to see it. When Emily puts on Dylan in her Camry, the melodious tones are enclosed in the container of her car, a secret world that the other people on the road have no idea of. (Unless we’ve got it going real good, stopped at a red light!) When you’re halfway out in the backyard and Eric has the porch speakers playing Tony Rice, you can just hear the strains of guitar swimming through the expanse of the evening darkness to your ears. (Music through fresh air has a charm all its own.)

Each one is wonderful in its own way. But when I put on my headphones, and the Brandenburg Concertos are playing inside the walls of my own head, behind my eyes and inside my thoughts . . . that is magic.

Yesterday

2006-11-30T13:40:00.000-08:00

While working on a school assignment at about 3:00 this morning, I came across something very exciting, not to mention interesting . . .

Take a look at this.
http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/boundforglory/
(Click on "Online Exhibition")

So cool.

If you have time, they also have a lot of other great stuff here-- http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/
-- like the original rough draft of the Declaration of Independence or George Washington's commission as Commander-in-Chief or original War Between the States photographs.
This is the Library of Congress. They have everything, and it belongs to us. What a thrill to get to look at it!

2006-11-09T09:31:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to Evan - the troop's newest Eagle Scout!

2006-11-09T00:35:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to Evan!

measure what we've lost . . .

2006-10-20T11:08:00.000-07:00

Look what I found in Library Journal last night . . .

$75K of Books Stolen at Texas Tech
By Andrew Albanese — October 15, 2006
Texas Tech officials say 22-year-old student assistant Jonathan Nunley ran a profitable side business stealing roughly 1000 library books, valued at around $75,000, and arranging to sell them through an Oregon-based online bookseller. According to the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal, Nunley worked a slow late-night shift with little supervision, which allowed him to pilfer the books. He then mutilated the texts to cover up markings that identified them as library property.
Jim Smith, owner of McKenzie Books in Oregon, told reporters that his suspicion was aroused after Nunley quickly becoming one of McKenzie’s top 30 high-volume sellers. Meanwhile, customers complained that books from Nunleybooks were missing pages, including tables of contents. A part-time book sorter later noticed "Texas Tech University" on one of the books. Texas Tech library spokesman Jeff Whitley said that officials believe Nunley was not a student but "someone with a criminal record who posed as a student in order to steal." Texas Tech officials said they were revising their policies on supervision of student workers and would consider new video surveillance for the circulation department.

It crossed my mind while I was there that you could make a lot of money selling library books . . . Some of those books are really old and valuable.
But how sad! I hate to think of someone taking 1000 books out of that library!

I can't think of a brilliant title for this post.....

2006-09-21T09:20:00.000-07:00

I would like to post the lyrics of two songs. Both done by Sister Hazel, one of the better rock bands in operation today.

#1. Sword and Shield

Just when the sky runs out of rain
Just when the sun runs out of light
Just when the earth is ill with pain
Just when your body is out of fight
I will be there
I will be the smallest piece and everything
And I will give my life before I break this promise to you

Melt into me
Don't you want to be the ones that last forever
I'll be your everlasting
And enemies
they take your will but they won't last forever
I'll be your sword and shield
I'll be your sword
I'll be your shield

Just when the ocean starts to dry
Just when the air is sick with smoke
Just when the statues start to cry
And fallen angels lay broken
I will be there
I will be the smallest piece and everything
And i will lose my life before I break this promise to you

Melt into me
Don't you want to be the ones that last forever
I'll be your everlasting
And enemies
they take your peace but they won't last forever
I'll be your sword and shield
I'll be your sword
I'll be your shield

I'll be your gracious angel
I'll be your favorite stranger
I'll be the mortar holding your walls
I'll be your army

Just when the sky runs out of rain
Just when the sun runs out of light
Just when the earth is ill with pain
Just when your body is out of fight
I will be there
I will be the smallest piece and everything
And I will give my life before I break this promise to you

Melt into me
Don't you want to be the ones that last forever
I'll be your everlasting
And enemies
they take your feast but they won't last forever
I'll be your sword and shield
I'll be your sword
I'll be your shield

-------------------------------------------------------------
#2. Life Got In The Way

We knew it all from a little thing
It was everything in our first minute
And it took us to another place
Another place and we fell in it
How dare you not remember?
How dare you walk away?

We adored every little thing
Every little thing would leave us breathless
Every dawn spelled another day
And in another day we weren't so restless
How dare you not remember?
How dare you walk away?

And I wanted you so much
Just like I do right now
I wanted us to be the ones the poets write their books about
I wanted it to last
I wanted to grow old
But life got in the way

Walking around in a heavy haze
We were stuck in days of so much warring
Got lost in a tricky maze
A tricky maze that was so scarring
How come you can't remember?
How dare you walk away?

Then you star to add the little things
Add the little things and trip the mighty
Now we've got a little bitter thing
A bitter thing that grew like ivy
How dare you not remember?
How dare you walk away?

And I wanted you so much
Just like I do right now
I wanted us to be the ones the poets write their books about
I wanted it to last
I wanted to grow old
But life got in the way

Apathy grows quietly
Where rapture used to fly
And promises and certainty
Have left love here to die
Won't you stay
And don't let this one fall away

And I wanted you so much
Just like I do right now
I wanted us to be the ones the poets write their books about
I wanted it to last
I wanted to grow old
But life got in the way

Good Day...

"I'm back at my first day of school . . . "

2006-09-16T17:26:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to let anyone who might be interested know what I've been doing lately-- about three weeks ago (it seems like far longer) I went back to school. I am after a Master's degree this time, and very excited about it. I am going to the University of North Texas, and studying Library Science. I am glad to be back in the classroom after a whole year out, but I don't get much of it since most of my classes will be online. (We're still seeing how that works out.) But that does mean I can live at home, which is nice.

Here is one of the prettier parts of the campus (Denton, Texas)-- it's nice in its own way, but it's nothing to Texas Tech. That's the Administration building there with the tower, and that ugly block thing is the student union. The fountain actually has green-tinted water--very strange . . .

As you can see, the library is also far inferior in architectural style . . .

swallowed in the sea

2006-09-05T20:59:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite Dylan songs-- it's so confidently optimistic.

Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will be ceased to be breathin'.
Like the stillness in the wind'
Fore the hurricane begins,
The hour when the ship comes in.

Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
Then the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the morning will be breaking.

Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls they'll be smiling.
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand,
The hour that the ship comes in.

And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they're spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean.

A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline.
And the sun will respect
Every face on the deck,
The hour that the ship comes in.

Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin'.
And the ship's wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin'.

Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And they'll jerk from their beds and think they're dreamin'.
But they'll pinch themselves and squeal
And know that it's for real,
The hour when the ship comes in.

Then they'll raise their hands,
Sayin' we'll meet all your demands,
But we'll shout from the bow your days are numbered.
And like Pharaoh's tribe,
They'll be drownded in the tide,
And like Goliath, they'll be conquered.

"On her 22nd birthday . . ."

2006-08-21T23:04:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to show you what is, I think, my favorite birthday present this year, (although I got some other really good ones too). Papa gave it to me tonight-- found, of course, at HPB.
You should see the pictures.

I don't think I've ever had such a fuss made over my birthday-- thanks, everyone, it was a great day.

In due time we shall reap . . .

2006-07-28T21:39:00.000-07:00

Here, at last are the fruits of several people's labors, namely, the produce of our garden. Papa says they are the best-tasting tomatoes he has had for a while. If only it wasn't so hot and there was more water available and the weeds wouldn't grow so much better than the vegetables . . . Still, it's doing fairly well. Come on over, and I'll make you a salad!

take a picture of somethin' you see . . .

2006-07-25T20:50:00.000-07:00

Mexican chocolate, old and new.

...and we note our place with bookmarkers...

2006-07-16T22:53:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to let y'all in on a great book I just read-- I signed up for the reading club at the library the other day, and since have been trying to finish five books so as to qualify for the prize . . . I didn't think it would be hard, but it's amazing how full summer days can be of other things besides reading, and how sleepy one feels when there finally is time to sit down with a nice cup of coffee and attend to such things. But this was my third, and I still have ten days, so I should be successful in the end.

Anyway, it was very good. As you can see by the picture, it was 1776 by David McCullough. I read his John Adams several years ago, and enjoyed it, but this one is better. It begins with sentiment in England at the time, (who ever thinks about what the British were thinking about the war? They all hated Americans, right?) and continues through the end of 1776, describing the movements of the armies, the battles, the political climate, and all. But the best part of all is that he really paints a picture of the people involved, especially the officers, but also of the soldiers and even of their wives back home. And he does it all with constant quotation from their letters and their diaries, showing exactly what they were thinking and feeling at the moment. This is the kind of history that I love. On top of all that, it's well-written and interesting to read, even to a mind all too used to fiction. I learned many things about the war from this book which, (I am ashamed to say, being an American and a History major), I had forgotten or never knew before. Check it out, it's very enjoyable.

not all treasure is silver and gold . . .

2006-07-09T23:03:00.000-07:00

We studied this passage in church this morning, and I was struck for the first time with how beautiful it is. I don't think I had ever noticed it before. No commentary, except-- notice the extensive work involved in digging out treasures of precious metals, and how much effort do we expend in getting the greater treasure of wisdom?

Job 28

1 "Surely there is a mine for silver,
and a place for gold that they refine.
2 Iron is taken out of the earth,
and copper is smelted from the ore.
3 Man puts an end to darkness
and searches out to the farthest limit
the ore in gloom and deep darkness.
4 He opens shafts in a valley
away from where anyone lives;
they are forgotten by travelers;
they hang in the air,
far away from mankind;
they swing to and fro.
5 As for the earth, out of it comes bread,
but underneath it is turned up as by fire.
6 Its stones are the place of sapphires,
and it has dust of gold.
7 "That path no bird of prey knows,
and the falcon's eye has not seen it.
8 The proud beasts have not trodden it;
the lion has not passed over it.
9 "Man puts his hand to the flinty rock
and overturns mountains by the roots.
10 He cuts out channels in the rocks,
and his eye sees every precious thing.
11 He dams up the streams so that they do not trickle,
and the thing that is hidden he brings out to light.

12 "But where shall wisdom be found?
And where is the place of understanding?
13 Man does not know its worth,
and it is not found in the land of the living.
14 The deep says, ‘It is not in me,’
and the sea says, ‘It is not with me.’
15 It cannot be bought for gold,
and silver cannot be weighed as its price.
16 It cannot be valued in the gold of Ophir,
in precious onyx or sapphire.
17 Gold and glass cannot equal it,
nor can it be exchanged for jewels of fine gold.
18 No mention shall be made of coral or of crystal;
the price of wisdom is above pearls.
19 The topaz of Ethiopia cannot equal it,
nor can it be valued in pure gold.

20 "From where, then, does wisdom come?
And where is the place of understanding?
21 It is hidden from the eyes of all living
and concealed from the birds of the air.
22 Abaddon and Death say,
‘We have heard a rumor of it with our ears.’

23 "God understands the way to it,
and he knows its place.
24 For he looks to the ends of the earth
and sees everything under the heavens.
25 When he gave to the wind its weight
and apportioned the waters by measure,
26 when he made a decree for the rain
and a way for the lightning of the thunder,
27 then he saw it and declared it;
he established it, and searched it out.
28 And he said to man,
‘Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom,
and to turn away from evil is understanding.’"

little things

2006-07-08T15:06:00.000-07:00

Here are a few more pictures to join the red trash can --

. . . standin' in the doorway, lookin' like the Jack of Hearts . . .

2006-07-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

18 Days

2006-05-24T23:56:00.000-07:00

Can't you just feel it?

2006-05-24T14:06:00.000-07:00

BOB DYLAN

2006-05-24T09:45:00.000-07:00

The great poet turns 65 today.

...Tell Me, Tell Me, Tell Me the Answer...

2006-05-22T21:10:00.000-07:00

sooo...Mark Ritchie of "The Holdfast" posed us a question tonight. who influenced more people, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or Bob Dylan? what is your answer?

Gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange...

2006-05-04T12:16:00.000-07:00

Eric's new loook.

Carry Your Cup In Your Hand...

2006-04-21T10:01:00.000-07:00

To see more of Ems' cool mugs & coffee equipment visit The Streets Of Cobblestone.

...driving from a place I know, out to a place I've been...

2006-04-05T22:45:00.000-07:00

So sorry for the lack of posting, everyone. It takes a while to get back into the land of the living. . .

But here is some of what we have been doing-- these are pictures taken on a trip to Lubbock that Evan and I recently made, taken with my wedding present, my dear digital camera. (Which I have misplaced at the moment, has anyone seen it?) It was a wonderful trip, but how could going into West Texas be bad? I got to drive out there alone, since Evan went back a day earlier with Eric after spring break. That was an amazing experience, in a quiet, lonesome sort of way. I drove out 114, of course, through the country and through the Towns. I'm going to live in one of those towns one of these days. If only my cd player hadn't stopped working in the middle of the trip with Paul Brandt stuck inside it. On the other hand, that meant that I got to listen to a couple of cool country country stations, with real weather reports and no traffic reports and commercials for Joe's feed in Seymour.
I wish I had some pictures from the drive-- it was beautiful, all green and spring-like after that flood of rain, and I had excellent weather. And then the stars in the evening . . . there's nothing in the world like West Texas stars.

Anyway, on to the pictures I do have--

The beautiful Tech campus on a fine day . . .

A real West Texas sunset, one of the most beautiful things you'll ever see . . .Andy Hedges, or his boots anyway, one of the main reasons we went out there. Excellent show, excellent wine . . .

Another of Lubbock's fine musicians-- Evan insisted on being taken to see the Buddy Holly statue. By this time it was very cold, and I had neglected to bring my coat along . . . What may be my favorite place at Tech-- the library. Evan and I spent some good time here, drooling over old leatherbound books and reading Chesterton . . .
After RUF, another of the reasons we were out there, we went to J&B's in the snow (yes, snow!) and had a wonderful time and some very good coffee, of which I sadly have no pictures, but here are a few choice friends at IHOP afterwards . . . That's Evs and Eric, with his new roomate Isidro and Zoe and Travis. I wish we could've stayed till 4:30.

I also have no pictures of Zoe's amazing but heatless old house, where I spent that night, but here was the view as we left very early Thursday morning . . .
And the legendary DQ in Olney, on the way home.

It was a good trip, catharsis or sparagmos, whichever you like. I wished I could stay, as I always do. And I realized that I really should keep up with my school friends better than I do, because I sure do enjoy them.

My "best" Grace Kelly Impression

2006-03-31T14:43:00.000-08:00

"I don't know why I spend my time..."

2006-03-31T10:46:00.000-08:00

...checking this blog. There's never anything new on it. Of course the blame lies with the other 3 of you - you have internet right at your fingertips (not to mention you practically each have a computer). Get going yall! Post pictures of what you've been doing or something interesting like that. ;) Love ya. Ems.

Happy Day

2006-03-21T09:25:00.000-08:00

Happy Anniversary to Mama and Papa!

25 Years!

2006-03-05T06:48:00.000-08:00

Hope everyone who went had a great time at boot camp -- now we begin the last week before Emily's wedding and spring break - THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS TO DO! I have about two or three project deadlines this week, Ugh.

Got to go to church now, Bye!

...going to the candidate's debate...

2006-02-22T00:03:00.000-08:00

Texas Governor Rick Perry

Yesterday was the first day of early voting for the Texas primary and I am planning on getting out there to vote sometime this week. Go Repubs!!

The country I come from is called the midwest . . .

2006-02-14T22:23:00.000-08:00

So I was talking to a friend today, who shall remain unnamed, who comes from up around Indiana, but now lives here in the Lone Star State. She was immensely surprised to discover that I and most Texans generally consider her as coming from a different cultural background than what we have down here, and even more surprised that I thought that there were more of these cultural differences than just between the north and the South. What do y'all think? Is regionalism dead?

(And go easy on the value judgements, we all know where the best place to live is . . .) : )

...I don't want to straight-face you...

2006-02-13T18:30:00.000-08:00

How should I presume?

2006-02-11T20:52:00.001-08:00

Forgive the length, but do read all of one of the most beautiful poems in the English language . . . This is for Evan, who has not yet experienced it-- I hope you're old enough to appreciate it.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
T. S. Eliot

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: "That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all."

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all."
. . . . .

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

...so I want to live in a wooden house...

2006-02-11T00:04:00.000-08:00

...and ticking clocks...

2006-02-10T09:23:00.000-08:00

Here's that other one I was telling you about, Eric . . .

Countin' the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike...

2006-02-08T21:07:00.000-08:00

This was a significant day for me-- for the first time, I believe, in my life, I actually heard and was helped by an applicable traffic report. I was astonished. For me, traffic reports never have anything to do with where you are trying to go, and are a good time to switch to the other station. But today, as I was sitting in traffic on I-30 and moving along at a snail's pace, I decided to turn on the radio to pass the time. I heard the last verse of a song, (I think it was Every Once in a While), and then Michael Scott came on. And before I could push the #3 button for the Wolf, he actually started talking about my very own traffic jam. He informed me that there was a wreck right in front of the exit to which I was trying to get, and that I was in the middle of an hour long delay that stretched far behind me and a good way in front of me. He also very helpfully declared that the accident was in the right lane, enabling me to make the wise choice of staying in the center. It was great. Gave me such a kick. You know you hear these things all the time, but to actually use one-- it's cool.

Then I finally got up there and had another thought-- why the heck do we have traffic jams anyway? It seems like such a silly waste of time, to crawl all that way just so you can speed up once you've passed the accident. I suppose it's all the fault of the first car that passes after the wreck. He slows down, which makes the car behind him slow down, which just causes a chain reaction all the way down the highway. And then there's no way to stop it! (Does any school offer a class in the physics of highway traffic? Cause I'd sure take it. This stuff bothers me exceedingly.)

Then there's the question of whether those buttons on street corners really have any effect on the traffic lights . . .

she laughs like the flowers...

2006-02-08T20:59:00.000-08:00

2006-02-07T16:41:00.000-08:00

Found a blurb in World Magazine today--

Hollywood-- Walt Disney Co. and Walden Media announced that they have started preproduction on Prince Caspian, a sequel to this year's blockbuster hit The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, with the goal of a Christmas 2007 release. The new Narnia film will feature the same four child actors as the Pevensie siblings, as well as the same screenwriters and the same director, Andrew Adamson.

These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise...

2006-02-07T16:10:00.000-08:00

I don't remember where I got this, but I found it on my computer today. I don't know what kind of crazy people think this stuff up, but it's funny. It could almost be a real script . . .

If Dr. Seuss wrote for Star Trek: the Next Generation...

Picard: Sigma Indri, that's the star,
So, Data, please, how far? How far?

Data: Our ship can get there very fast
But still the trip will last and last
We'll have two days til we arrive
But can the Indrans there survive?
Picard: LaForge, please give us factor nine.
LaForge: But, sir, the engines are offline!
Picard: Offline! But why? I want to go!
Please make it so, please make it so!
Riker: But sir, if Geordi says we can't,
We can't, we mustn't, and we shan't,
The danger here is far too great!
Picard: But surely we must not be late!
Troi: I'm sensing anger and great ire.
Computer: Alert! Alert! The ship's on fire!
Picard: The ship's on fire? How could this be?
Who lit the fire?
Riker: Not me.
Worf: Not me.
Picard: Computer, how long til we die?
Computer: Eight minutes left to say goodbye.
Data: May I suggest a course to take?
We could, I think, quite safely make
Extinguishers from tractor beams
And stop the fire, or so it seems...
Geordi: Hurray! Hurray! You've saved the day!
Again I say, Hurray! Hurray!
Picard: Mr. Data, thank you much.
You've saved our lives, our ship, and such.
Troi: We still must save the Indran planet --
Data: Which (by the way) is made of granite...
Picard: Enough, you android. Please desist.
We understand -- we get your gist.
But can we get our ship to go?
Please, make it so, PLEASE make it so.
Geordi: There's sabotage among the wires
And that's what started all the fires.
Riker: We have a saboteur? Oh, no!
We need to go! We need to go!
Troi: We must seek out the traitor spy
And lock him up and ask him why?
Worf: Ask him why? How sentimental.
I say give him problems dental.
Troi: Are any Romulan ships around?
Have scanners said that they've been found?
Or is it Borg or some new threat
We haven't even heard of yet?
I sense no malice in this crew.
Now what are we supposed to do?
Crusher: Captain, please, the Indrans need us.
They cry out, "Help us, clothe us, feed us!"
I can't just sit and let them die!
A doctor MUST attempt -- MUST try!
Picard: Doctor, please, we'll get there soon.
Crusher: They may be dead by Tuesday noon.

COMMERCIAL BREAK, COMMERCIAL BREAK
HOW LONG WILL ALL THESE DUMB ADS TAKE?

Worf: The saboteur is in the brig.
He's very strong and very big.
I had my phaser set on stun --
A zzzip! A zzzap! Another one!
He would not budge, he would not fall,
He would not stun, no, not at all!
He changed into a stranger form
All soft and purple, round and warm.
Picard: Did you see this, Mr. Worf?
Did you see this creature morph?
Worf: I did and then I beat him fairly.
Hit him on the jaw -- quite squarely.
Riker: My commendations, Klingon friend!
Our troubles now are at an end!
Crusher: Now let's get our ship to fly
And orbit yonder Indran sky!
Picard: LaForge, please tell me we can go...?
Geordi: Yes, sir, we can.
Picard: Then make it so!

They say it's your birthday

2006-02-04T22:02:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to Mama!!!

oh, baby

2006-02-01T23:06:00.000-08:00

From our baby brother (4 years old), at lunchtime the other day--

"Mama, I want Confederate cheese on my sandwich, not American."

Skipping reels of rhyme

2006-01-30T21:39:00.000-08:00

Somebody asked Bob Dylan what his songs were about one time . . .

His answer was, "Oh, some are about four minutes; some are about five, and some, believe it or not, are about eleven or twelve."

Books!

2006-01-30T14:55:00.000-08:00

Kathryn wins the grand prize, although I don't suppose I have anything to give her except a library pass to come and read any of them whenever she wants to.

Yes, I have 570 books, on my shelves, out on the landing, stacked on the floor, laying on my desk, next to my pillow . . . I sit in here surrounded by them all the time, so it finally popped into my head the other day to see exactly how many of them there were. I was surprised. Actually, the number should've been 577, because I found a few more today that I had missed. I love my books, from my beautiful one-volume Lord of the Rings even down to my Uncle Tom's Cabin that I keep turned backwards on the shelf.

Papa thinks it's excessive, but what can compare with a good book? You should all come and read them sometime. After all, reading maketh a full man . . .

570

2006-01-29T11:14:00.000-08:00

I counted all the ones I could find yesterday-- can anyone guess what that is the number of? (anyone besides Evan, that is, with whom I have already discussed this.) I don't want to say anything else, for fear of giving it away-- good skill!

Bobby Dylan Rides Again

2006-01-26T23:53:00.001-08:00

well he actually is still riding...

Anyway, I thought I might take this opportunity to mention how wonderful it is to listen to the music of Andy Hedges. Last Tuesday I saw him play at a local shop and it was a great experience. Here is a picture:

It has been a pleasure re-aquainting myself with him and his roommate, my old partner in crime, Brent Hastings. Not suprisingly, Brent also is a very nice singer.

Brent and I are on a mission to introduce as many people as possible to his music. Mostly by word of mouth, though I have used my Photoshop skills a little. My whole family already listens to his CD and they love it. If you are inclined to listen, three of the tracks on his CD "City Boys" can be heard at Pure Volume and three different ones are at his myspace page- if I were you, I would listen to the title track on the first and "Dust and Horns" on the latter.

2006-01-26T00:45:00.000-08:00

Look around
The grass is high
The fields are ripe
It's the springtime of my life.

What a fun time I have been having! I suppose I am the exception to the "dating" rule...but it doesn’t worry me.

(What I am referring to is the fact that up until 2 weeks ago I had never really gone on a real "date.")

My first was fun. The young man (my fiancé of course) picked me up at my house at 6:00pm. We both dressed up -- he was in black from his neck to his ankles (boots were brown), and I got to wear my heels. He took me out to Abuelo's - a good mexican food restaurant. It was a bit of a chilly night, but as the car heater was working well, we were warm. We got out of the car and went into the restaurant, he gave them his name and we sat down to wait for a table. As we waited we visited about different things, joked about lots of things, agreed on other things, but then it was time to sit down and we did. Ordering was easy-he got a beef quesadilla and I got enchiladas. It was good food, but alas, I could not finish mine! So we got a doggie bag and left the place (we did pay first). After dinner we went to Barnes and Noble where we got Starbucks, then went into the store and looked at the movies, music and some books. It was a good time of walking and looking. Then he took me home. We have wonderful times together. ;)

...Friends I'll Never Forget...

2006-01-25T20:10:00.000-08:00

so back in November, some crazy people that many of you know were at our house. while there, we filmed a music video (which I still don't have a copy of)... and these were some still shots of the preparation beforehand. wish yall could come down again :)

Good Day...

Beat your swords into ploughshares

2006-01-25T19:27:00.000-08:00

"Where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good tilled earth.

For all Hobbits share a love of things that grow."

As many of you may know, we are in the midst of a very warm winter and a drought here in Texas. (It was 80 degrees one day earlier in January.) So I decided Saturday to take advantage of the beautiful weather to start getting the garden ready for the many hopeful plans I have for it this year. (We shall see what comes of them.)

So I brought out our little tiller, expended much effort trying to make it start, (made my shoulders very sore with pulling on the cord), got Papa's advice on which was the proper setting to put it in, (choke, and all that-- I really know nothing about motors), made sure that it was actually turned on, tried a few more times, and finally it sputtered to life for me.

But then, I hadn't reckoned on how hard the ground was-- So, after consultation with Mama, I sprayed the area with the garden hose. (see below)
(By the way, don’t be fooled by the green grass– there isn’t any anywhere other than under the spigot.)

The water helped greatly. But still, the machine . . . you wouldn’t think that something so small and innocent looking as that tiller could be such a trouble. But I suppose it was more the ground’s fault. What is it that Derek says? ". . . a broken back from the ground fighting back at me . . ." It really is the curse of mankind. Well anyway, the end result, on that Saturday, was that I got half of the garden tilled before I had to go in to help get ready for company. I woke up the next morning hardly able to move, my hands and arms were so sore.

But then came the rain. It was absolutely lovely– it rained all day Sunday; steady rain, and very wet. Just what we needed. (I wished all day that I was in Lubbock so that I could go walk around the Tech campus in it with my flip-flops and my red coat on . . .)

So on Tuesday, when I had gotten some more gasoline-and-oil (since the other gas can, with a broken spout, no less, had been left out in the rain and therefore ruined) I put my overalls back on and went to work again. And oh, the rain made such a difference! I was so much more at peace with my piece of machinery– I felt like I was its master, instead of it mastering me. But I suppose it was the ground that changed, not me.

And here, my friends, is the good tilled earth that resulted– this is at the end of Saturday– now the plot is three-fourths done. There’s something poetic about earth, don’t you think? Course you have to see it in person, perhaps even till it in person, to appreciate it fully. But dirt is truly amazing in some way. So is gasoline, by the way. They complained all evening that I was smelling up the house with it, (maybe I did get a little on me when I spilled it that one time– I told you I don’t know anything about motors, or new-fangled gas cans, for that matter), but it’s and honest smell, really, and I’ve always liked it.

At any rate, I’ll probably finish it up tomorrow, should it prove such another fine day, and then on to other work. I hope, someday, to post pictures of the fruits of my labor, but that is as it may be.

. . . Playing games with the faces . . .

2006-01-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

Just thought you might like to see some of the pictures we didn't send to the paper--

We were having a lot of fun that day. As you can see, he fits right in.

...The Papers Print His Picture...

2006-01-19T22:49:00.000-08:00

well, so these newspaper type people got a call from the Mother type person, who wanted them to put a picture in the paper news of a certain Sister and her certain intended. pretty good picture, wouldn't you say?

Good Day...

Shall we continue tomorrow?

2006-01-17T22:10:00.000-08:00

I was watching Sense & Sensibility the other night, all by myself, and it occurred to me to finally search out the source of the beautiful poetry that Col. Brandon is reading to Marianne near the end of the movie. I've always meant to, you know, but never could keep the thought in my mind.

And so I did look it up. Is not the internet a fearful and wonderful thing? It didn't take long. I was rather surprised to learn that it comes from Spenser, but perhaps I shouldn't've been, since I've loved his work for years now. It's from the Faerie Queen, part of a longer section, and I just had to put the context in here. It reads rather like Job 38, and it's beautiful.

(I thought about modernising the spelling, but I decided it's better the way it was written.)

"Of things unseene how canst thou deeme aright,"
Then answered the righteous Artegall,
"Sith thou misdeem'st so much of things in sight?
What though the sea with waves continuall
Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all;
Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought,
For whatsoever from one place doth fall
Is with the tide unto another brought:
For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought. -

"Likewise the earth is not augmented more
By all that dying into it doe fade;
For of the earth they formed were of yore:
How ever gay their blossome or their blade
Doe flourish now, they into dust shall vade.
What wrong then is it, if that when they die
They turne to that whereof they first were made?
All in the powre of their great Maker lie:
All creatures must obey the voice of the Most Hie. -

"They live, they die, like as he doth ordaine,
Ne ever any asketh reason why.
The hils doe not the lowly dales disdaine,
The dales doe not the lofty hils envy.
He maketh Kings to sit in soverainty;
He maketh subjects to their powre obey;
He pulleth downe, he setteth up on hy;
He gives to this, from that he takes away,
For all we have is his: what he list doe, he may. -

"What ever thing is done by him is donne,
Ne any may his mighty will withstand;
Ne any may his soveraine power shonne,
Ne loose that he hath bound with stedfast band.
In vaine therefore doest thou now take in hand
To call to count, or weigh his workes anew,
Whose counsels depth thou canst not understand;
Sith of things subject to thy daily vew
Thou doest not know the causes, nor their courses dew. -

"For take thy ballaunce, if thou be so wise,
And weigh the winde that under heaven doth blow;
Or weigh the light that in the East doth rise;
Or weigh the thought that from mans mind doth flow:
But if the weight of these thou canst not show,
Weigh but one word which from thy lips doth fall:
For how canst thou those greater secrets know,
That doest not know the least thing of them all?
Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small."

Edmund Spenser
The Faerie Queene, Canto II, XXXIX - XLIII

Look out Kid . . .

2006-01-14T11:10:00.000-08:00

Ever thought about this?

Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he's got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off

Bob Dylan, of course. We were sitting around in Dickey's the other night, thinkin' bout the government, so to speak, and we decided to analyze this first half of the first verse of a rather alarming song. (It happens to be all the words of that song that I know, except for the line where he says something about "eleven dollar bills and you only got ten." It was the way that he said it.)

So anyway, we decided to try and figure out just what he was saying here. The song is obviously about drugs, aren't they all, and Johnny's the one making them, down in the basement. Bob, on the other hand, is standing on the sidewalk outside, looking down at Johnny through the window. It's one of those little dirty ones right down near the ground, but near the ceiling of the basement. Bobby's keeping watch, and contemplating either how many laws they're breaking by engaging in such nefarious activities, or what the feds are going to do if they find out. Or both.

(By the way, this basement - pavement thing keeps reminding me of that Sherlock Holmes story where he goes around tapping on the sidewalk to find the basement where the criminals were going to burrow into the bank vault-- Dr. Watson, of course, didn't know what on earth he was doing.)

But back to Bobby, who is nervously watching over that window. (You'd think they'd pick a more secret place, but I suppose, living in a big city like that, they had to take what was available.) And who should walk up then but the man in the trench coat. He's been hanging around, and they're afraid he knows something, and he might even be "government." Well, turns out he was, but not anymore. He's been "laid off," and for good reason. But he does know what kind of "medicine" Johnny's making down there (points at the window) and he needs some to take care of his "bad cough." But he could also go and tell his former employers all about it (who knows, they might even give him his job back), so if they want to stay in business, they'd better pay him off with some of what they get from other people, you know, just to make it worth his while to be unemployed.

At this point, as Bobby's getting rather worried, Johnny looks up from his work to see the long brown trench coat talking to Bobby's black-and-white hi-tops, and quickly begins to clear away all signs of what he's been doing . . .

Happy Birthday Again Emily!

2006-01-12T17:21:00.000-08:00

to Pizza or not to Pizza that is the question

2006-01-06T09:43:00.000-08:00

Howdy to everyone in the blog-o-sphere who ends up on this blog. I am the artist formerly known as Pizza. Now known as (>

Just Kidding...

actually, I wonder what my family would thing if I changed my name to a slice of pepperoni, I guess that would be pretty weird. Honestly it looks more like a slice of cheese doesn't it. : )

(>

2005-12-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

This is a test. This is only a test. If this had been a real emergency...