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Archive for the ‘home’ Category

Kitten mitten

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Sleep-in. Wake leisurely and decide to try making impressive lemongrass, lime leaf and ginger cordial for guests bringing lunch over. Pick, chop, put on to simmer. Congratulate self. Read next step… “cool and infuse for at least 5 hours”.

Why do I continue to be so me?

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f8_la_philie_evelyn_bracklow_chitins_gloss_photo_ingrid_raab_yatzer

From Evelyn Bracklow’s creepily enchanting porcelain tableware” at Yatzer. 

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Autumn has so far included:

my partner getting quite a bit of surgery

my daughter turning 12

weather too hot for autumn

floods

soup made out of anything left in the fridge

bike riding again, finally

him, oil painting

me, submitting an essay for a book

an engagement cake

the storm shall pass

preparing the kitchen garden for replanting

a new job, and having to take my kids to work for the day because my partner is re-admitted for surgery, and the 7 yr old getting lost after taking himself to the toilet while I am away at a one and a half hour meeting (I know!) and coming across a stately gentleman in the corridors and asking him where I might work and that man, of course, being the CEO, and him telling my son to go down there and hang a right.. and taking my kids home later that evening at precisely the correct time because by then my son was relaxed enough to flip the bird to himself in the mirrors in the elevator.

 

 

 

 

 

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Poems like “You Kindly” capture two brilliant paradoxes that run through Olds’s work. They give the impression of being wildly personal, even as the experiences they describe—in this case, the erotic union of spouses—are common. And they break with the female-confessional tradition as represented by Olds’s predecessors Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, who used their poetry to rattle the bars of the cozy middle-class matrimony and maternity that they felt imprisoned them. Olds found a path to her own radical artistry by championing the domestic everyday. Breastfeeding a baby; coaxing a sick child to take his medicine; drinking wine on a summer evening with your husband as a comfortable prelude to sex. These are ordinary moments, the kind most of us, if we are lucky enough to have them, wash down life’s drain. Olds rescues them from obscurity by paying them the close attention of her verse.

From “Sharon Olds sings the body electric” by Alexandra Schwartz in The New Yorker.

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We Alone

We alone can devalue gold
by not caring
if it falls or rises
in the marketplace.
Wherever there is gold
there is a chain, you know,
and if your chain
is gold
so much the worse
for you.
Feathers, shells
and sea-shaped stones
are all as rare.
This could be our revolution:
to love what is plentiful
as much as
what’s scarce.

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