Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Gathering the Goodness

Fat Tuesday in the blog: time to bake pumpkin bread, and lots of it. Regular pumpkin bread, gluten-free pumpkin bread, organic oat flour pumpkin bread, and pumpkin muffins, perhaps with chocolate chips in them. It won't all get done today, but I've got to start somewhere. And clear out space in the freezer.

Gathering the goodness today. A friend emailed to say he'd heard me on Poetry Radio, so here's that: "Nocturne," a poem from Nocturnes (Hyacinth Girl Press), with music by Nina Zanetti from Beside Still Waters. Then another friend sent me this link to a favorite Chopin piece I used to play on the piano! But this is jazzy and on the clarinet. (It's a prelude, not a nocturne, but who's counting? As I recall, the nocturnes were harder.)

Another friend sent pictures of Emily Dickinson stuff, including this letter seal! I love how the name is necessarily backwards. These small, sweet, steady, kind connections keep me going. Thank you, dear ones.

Meanwhile, as misinformation and rants still fly about the internet, there are also sweet, calm tributes and reminders, including this opinion piece in the New York Times, "Don't Blame Autism for Newtown," by Priscilla Gilman. I'm glad I read it.

And last but not least, these ancient bones, evidence that people and communities have always been willing and able to care for one another. "Ancient Bones that Tell a Story of Compassion," by James Gorman. I love science and the New York Times. I love these bones. (Photo by Lorna Tilley.) And also these, by Madeleine Peyroux.


Collagemama said...

Thank you for the compassion NYTimes link. I had missed that story. Amazing.

Kathleen said...

It's always good to find evidence of our kindness as the human race, isn't it?

Cathy said...

Beautiful poem. That was the first time I've ever heard your voice!

Kathleen said...

Thanks, Cathy. Yup, that's me!

The Swamp Lawyer said...

The poem was beautiful. We have a hard north wind today and house finches and red-breasted nuthatches, a rarity for us, are both at the feeders. I can think of none more worthy of anyone's estate. You weave many seemingly diverse things into this lovely entry. Joy from pumpkin bread to old burials.