Folks taking pictures of the rainbows.
What an odd November day.
The last 2 readings in European Studies 101 make one of my favorite pairings – The Prince and The Tempest. They lead up to a great question for the final exam – would Machiavelli approve of Prospero? I sometimes get really great answers to that.
And there’s a little dusty snow in the gutters, here. South of the Thruway for the Win!!!
Everything speeds up as we get closer to the end!
The first wintry mix of rain and snow for the season is falling – but luckily I’m headed south for the weekend! Washington, DC, with the FSem then Houston for my 30th Rice Reunion. Busy, busy!
These things are transmittable, so I won’t tell you what I can’t get out of my head – other than to say it’s by Gordon Lightfoot! Grrr!
I hope his colleagues blame him for some of his party’s failures and oust him from his leadership role. That’s just spite talking, but hey. Think about it. Why should he remain in any power over them?
There’s a lot of controversy in Italy about using private money for efforts like this.
. . . but after a service visit from the heating man we’re toasty at my building!
We’ve started the grind to the end of the semester. November is always like this. Back to grading!
We haven’t had a bat on the first floor, at least, for 4 or 5 years – and I don’t miss ‘em! National Geographic is trying to convince me to welcome them back.
My department has been so sickly this month that I’ve gone to the doctor much earlier than usual in my sinus-infection-goes-to-the-chest cycle. I’m giving Benzonatate pearls another shot. Why are they all so cautious about a nice narcotic cough medicine??
O SUNS and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October’s bright blue weather;
When loud the bumble-bee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And Golden-Rod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;
When Gentians roll their fringes tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;
When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;
When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields, still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;
When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;
When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October’s bright blue weather.
O suns and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October’s bright blue weather.
Helen Hunt Jackson, 1893. That kind of day today in Upstate NY.
I forget which grammar school teacher had us memorize this, but it’s much more relevant to my life here than in Chattanooga. We never had chestnuts dropping unannounced from the tree — it was more like black walnuts at our house. I still don’t see a lot of gentians here – but it was bright blue today. We are certainly counting every hour like misers. Winter is coming.
The Olympics in Washington — provided the games are well run and there is no lavish waste of public funds — could play an uplifting role and provide a rallying point of pride before America’s 250th birthday two years later.