Hedgehogs here to get us through the hump of the week.
Tonight my book group meets to discuss The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery, the book I bought for my daughter and borrowed back to read for myself.
I have been re-reading sections in preparation for tonight, notably the ending, plus Renee Michel's rejection of Husserl. Renee is the concierge of a residential hotel in Paris, and she resembles a hedgehog in her bristling spiny defense mechanisms and her ability to roll up in a ball of emotional denial.
Hedgehogs are mainly nocturnal and, in captivity, get along well with other domesticated animals.
Yes, Renee has a cat.
Hedgehogs live in Europe and are popular pets. There are no native species in North America, not anymore.
Terry Pratchett has "The Hedgehog Song" in his Discworld books, and, amazingly, here is a whole webpage dedicated to that, with lyrics, and a chance to hear them sung. It's at the website of Warren Marrs, poet, who will appreciate today's poem-a-day prompt: hedgehogs in the wild or as pets.
Meanwhile, I finished Women in Their Beds, by Gina Berriault. Oh, my, what a beautiful book of short stories. I was delighted to encounter in it the words "slattern" and "braggadocio," which have also come up in the blogosphere of my life.
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I worked as an actor, wrote for an encyclopedia, edited a literary magazine, and taught college English courses. Now I write poetry, blog "eight days a week," and listen to birdsong.