She Returns to the Floating World

Cold here, sad, raining. But a needed rain. We've lost a friend, who was floating for a while, pain free, in her bed by a window. Now completely free.

New review up here, in Galatea Resurrects #18, of She Returns to the Floating World, by Jeannine Hall Gailey. I like how the editor, Eileen Tabios, alternates between saying someone "reviews" or someone "engages" a book. I certainly engage! You can learn more about the book here or at Kitsune Books.

A poem, "Late Bloomers," in the new issue of Stirring: A Literary Collection.

Dreams & Lilies

Speaking of lilies, as I was yesterday, here is Lily by Angus McDonald, the Escape Into Life artist who is paired with poet W. F. Lantry in today's new poetry feature. Many thanks to EIL for allowing me to use the artist's images when I announce the poetry features here!

This appears to be a true Lilium, unlike yesterday's Daylily, a Hemerocallis.

Bill's first poem is called "Songe" and I had to be reminded that this means "dream" in French. Then it perfectly paired with McDonald's painting Dreams.  

Phrases from the poems connect to the other painting, Melon and Shawl, of a woman in her bed, phrases like "in this darkened room," "I've built her many things: crafted a bed, /white wood and copper...," and "can almost see her arm / encircled by a gold inscription." Oh, go see!

I love my job!

But I do hope W.F. Lantry doesn't think I think he's a melon...

I have been having intense morning dreams on these beautiful late spring, summery mornings. The birds, the sunshine, the early-morning garbage trucks, all are urging me up and outdoors while the dreams, too, are waking me up to what's in my subconscious.

Lately, this has been the inevitable loss of a friend, peaceful at the moment on her deathbed, surrounded by her family. On the morning I would hear the news of her latest health crisis, I had dreamed of a mother figure in a little house in the woods.

Later, I connected the house to her vacation cabin, lost in a California fire. The two losses were coming together in the "darkened room" of my mind.

And now, out I go into the summer light.

Sumer Is Icumen In

The first daylilies have opened, and orange blossoms now stand tall beside the trellis roses. More to open soon along the back fence.

In years past, these daylilies have opened on the exact first day of summer, but, just the like the summer-vacation weather, they have come early. Because the first hot, false spring came in March, many perennials got an early start and came to an early bloom, some on shortened stems.  It's hard to believe it's still May at this moment.*

Daylilies bloom in a kind of musical round, one a day, multiples on a stem, like "Sumer Is Icumen In," this traditional song, also known as "The Cuckoo Song," although there is another wonderful "Cuckoo Song" and "The Cuckoo Bird," sung by Deana Carter on the Songcatcher album, is spinning around in my head right now!

"The cuckoo is a pretty bird." And so on.

These lyrics look pretty "cuccu," don't they? So, here's a translation. (Wait! Is this a farting song?!)

Here's a picture of the original manuscript. You can click on karaoke instructions, or another translation. (Yes, farting. But in this version it's the billy-goat who is farting. In the other, it's the buck. Ah, problem solved! Re: translation, not animal flatulence.)

*Also, "sumer" might mean spring, not summer, in this particular song. (See same note, above, that refers to buck and billy-goat farting dispute.) Thank you, daylilies, for not smelling up the place (that is, in a bad way).

Thank you, Wikipedia, for public domain and free use daylily images.

Thank you, buck and/or billy-goat, for farting. Farting in the round. Karaoke style.

Cuckoo.

Red, White, & Blue Monday

Happy Memorial Day to all, or sad, as the case may be. If you are visiting grave sites, honoring your lost loved ones, I send you comforts. If you are celebrating with picnics, I join you in joy, having been gathering with family wamily here this weekend. A little blue on this Red, White, & Blue Monday in the blog as family members head home...or away....

Last night we said goodbye to our newly-graduated son as he headed back to "real life" in Chicago, which involves finding a job, an internship, and/or an apartment in the next couple of months. The train was late, and when it finally came, it wasn't actually his train! It was the earlier delayed train! So we took him home for cookies and milk and took him back for the real farewell. What a beautiful, warm, breezy night!

The train delay was good in that husband could get home from club volleyball tournament--his girls won the whole thing!--in time to say goodbye.

Thanks to Wikipedia-Wikimedia for the Memorial Day at Arlington Cemetery public domain image, and to Jean-Pol Grandmont for the red grape spiderwort, which is what greets me in the morning in my garden. That and blue and lavender blue Ohio and Virginia spiderwort...which is also Illinois spiderwort!

Midwestern Mistral

Today we had a huge wind blowing all day. Now it is always windy out on the prairie and farmland where I grew up, but today the wind in town was just as strong, coming from the south or southwest, warm and dry, so not really like the mistral, the cold north wind in France. But it was fun to say "Midwestern Mistral" as a title on this wild Thor's Day in the blog.

In the southwest flower bed, several stems of spiderwort and Dianthus (cottage pinks and Sweet William) were blown down, parallel to the earth. If they don't stand up soon, I suppose they can still live there, or I can bring some in for vases.

The flowers in these vases are by Jonathan Koch, Rose in a White Vase and White Camellia in Green Vase.