I am reading Moby Dick and feeling giddy as a kid in a candy shop. It’s so nice to read a good classic.
The shelf above the sink in our house is the land where the jumblies live. I collected a whole box of them. Sometimes I wish they would go to sea in a sieve, as in the poem, and let me off putting them away!
When I was younger I took delight in the saying, “A clean desk is the sign of an empty mind.” No more! Now I fervently hope an uncluttered house leads to an uncluttered brain!
…and cloudy is the weather. I haven’t met an old man, clothed all in leather, but it wouldn’t particularly surprise me if I did.
Last night very late, while everyone was asleep, I padded along through the house to the guest room with the tall windows and looked out. A few windows were open to the sound of frogs and insects making a steady din. I looked at the trees in the mist and thought, oh, I am too busy. So much beauty all around, but I rarely stop to admire it these days.
Now it’s eleven, and full-on busy time. I was on my hands and knees this morning with a tweezers and a box cutting knife, removing straggly bits of wallpaper embedded in tile grout. I remembered a time years ago, pre-babies, when my husband, watching me carefully transfer pasta sauce into a container with a rubber spatula, told me with amusement about something called the law of diminishing returns. I wish I could apply that here, but you can’t just leave wallpaper sticking in grout, can you?
Soon I’ll be done. I resolve to go outside and enjoy the cloudy day. If I see an old man clothed all in leather it will probably be a biker, and I will smile and nod.
Happy Father’s day, one day late! I’ve been practically too busy to think (a state of affairs not entirely without advantages) let alone draw – but I can share Daddy’s portrait from his Father’s Day cake. He thought he looked a bit Mephistophelean rendered this way. I did my best – I worked in a cake shop once, believe it or not; but filling jelly doughnuts and putting roses on petit fours doesn’t require too much skill. The children didn’t notice, and were delighted to present the cake (and to help eat it.)
My heart does flips when I behold
The peas and carrots fly:
So was it when I first began;
So is it with each little man;
Shall it be so ’til I grow old?
I heave a sigh!
The Child is father of the Man;
But now, I find my days to be
Filled to the brim with piles of stained laun-der-y.
* * *
Forgive me Mr. Wordsworth, wherever you are. While chatting with my brother on the phone this weekend, I paused to bellow gently at the children: “Stop eating like The Cookie Monster! I am tired of cleaning up the mess!” My brother laughed wickedly; but I forgive him because he has small children too and suffers similar things.
Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town to another due,
Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
John Donne’s “Batter my heart, three-person’d God” (also known as Holy Sonnet 14) has a vivid central conceit – the soul as a walled city, and the Holy Trinity employing a battering-ram to gain entrance. While my husband and I were on a walk this week we saw the mural above, and it instantly brought the poem to my mind.
Our small nieces visited us before Easter. The cousins played inside and out, and named some of the local animals (“Shaggy”, a pony, and “Tim”, a donkey, are two that I remember). We talked about animals we are afraid of – lions, tigers, and snakes. I told the children that I am afraid of rats. The boys and I had been listening to a recording of The Wind in the Willows for days, and of course I love Ratty – but I hadn’t connected him until then with real rats. Little did I know rats would come up again soon!
During our nieces’ stay we were locked out of the house by mistake. By this means I found that in addition to its other positive points, our house is difficult to break in to without smashing something. So I repaired to the neighbors’ to use their phone. I met three young people there, and one lent me his cell phone. I wasn’t able to reach anyone at first.
“Just leave it here when you’re done,” the young man said. “You can put it in the rat trap there.”
His companions’ faces froze in the paralysis that follows a bloomer. I could see from his face that he felt it too, but he carried on bravely.
“It doesn’t work, really,” he continued. “We’re basically just feeding him peanut butter.”
We all laughed a bit, and I thanked them and left. I hope I didn’t look shocked about the rat. Later I duly left the phone in the rat trap. It was as neat as a pin and looked to be the kind used for catch and release; so my neighbors are humane as well as kindly.
Finally, a tale of baby lions, not real ones fortunately. For history class last week our oldest read the story of Gilgamesh. I read the epic in college, but remembered almost none of it; so when I passed through the hall and heard, “…who was half man and half god,” I stopped and said, “Wait now, what? Who’s this?”
“Don’t worry, mom,” my son replied.” It’s just a story made up by the baby lions.”
“Yes, the Babylonians.”
So there you have it. More bulletins as events warrant.