Tea: Mandarin Green
Music: U2, "October"
Time: Night.
It's raining, and I do enjoy a good chilly fall downpour. But that drip you hear isn't just the water from the eaves.
Yes, I'm still stuffy. And my left ear is plugged.
But you know what? I have hot water. I have tea. And even if I didn't have those, I have a roof over my head to keep off the rain.
I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating: When things seem crummy, count your blessings. A dose of perspective -- whether regular or decaf -- is pretty strong medicine.
So is a good ghost story. Tonight's dose: H.F.W. Tatham, "The Travelling-Companion"
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Drizzlicious
Tea: Blood Orange
Music: Asia, "Without You"
Time: Night.
Ah ... wet, cool fall weather. My time is upon the world, and none too soon. I can only take so many beautiful Indian summer days before I get cranky.
Were I scripting the night, I'd have a bowl of beef and Guinness in front of me and see myself off to bed with something malty and peaty. (I have the latter, but I also have a bit of a sniffle and scratch -- which isn't a Dickensian law firm but certainly sounds like one, doesn't it?)
So I think I'll steep myself one last cup, stir in some honey and contemplate some old-school spookiness. As promised, I'm catching up and giving you three stories:
Beatrice Heron-Maxwell, "The Devil Stone"
William Hope Hodgson, "The Weed Men"
Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, "Narrative of the Ghost of a Hand"
Music: Asia, "Without You"
Time: Night.
Ah ... wet, cool fall weather. My time is upon the world, and none too soon. I can only take so many beautiful Indian summer days before I get cranky.
Were I scripting the night, I'd have a bowl of beef and Guinness in front of me and see myself off to bed with something malty and peaty. (I have the latter, but I also have a bit of a sniffle and scratch -- which isn't a Dickensian law firm but certainly sounds like one, doesn't it?)
So I think I'll steep myself one last cup, stir in some honey and contemplate some old-school spookiness. As promised, I'm catching up and giving you three stories:
Beatrice Heron-Maxwell, "The Devil Stone"
William Hope Hodgson, "The Weed Men"
Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, "Narrative of the Ghost of a Hand"
Friday, June 27, 2008
A Reprieve for Desdemona
Tea: Chrysanthemum
Music: The Who, "Won't Get Fooled Again"
Time: Night
On the spur of the moment this evening, I hied myself to Southmoreland Park in KCMO to see "Othello," as presented by the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival.
(Sometime before I die, I will see every Shakespeare play live (and I seriously want to see some of them in Central Park). Before tonight, I had seen:
"King Lear," with Anthony Hopkins in the title role;
"Macbeth" (yeah, yeah, so jinx me), starring Jonathan Pryce;
Heart of America presentations of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and "Much Ado About Nothing" (the latter twice);
A high school drama performance of "A Midsummer Night's Dream;" (By the middle of the play, we were all snickering at the dirty parts. The kids in the cast, of course, began emphasizing them.)
And a version of "The Tempest" seen at Kansas State University (I cannot, for the life of me, recall the traveling troupe's name) -- presented by a cast of five players, dressed in white and without props or scenery, using only their voices and body languages to indicate the shifts.
Anyway ... as said, tonight was "Othello" -- or most of it.
(Warning: Spoilers follow.)
There was a brief shower in the second act, before Othello strangles Desdemona (but not in time to save Roderigo, which was fine by me. He was portrayed as such a whiny wuss -- which he was, admittedly -- that I was rooting for Iago to run him through and put him out of everyone's misery.)
I really wanted to borrow one of those stage swords and use it to shut up the guy yapping behind me, too. (I wouldn't have stuck him with it, really. Not too hard, anyway.)
Anyway ... check the forecast, if you're in town, and go see a performance before it closes (last night is July 6). And if you see a bald guy scowling at you because you're talking ... wave hi and zip it until the play is over.
(Okay, so go ahead and laugh at the naughty parts ... you know you want to.)
Music: The Who, "Won't Get Fooled Again"
Time: Night
On the spur of the moment this evening, I hied myself to Southmoreland Park in KCMO to see "Othello," as presented by the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival.
(Sometime before I die, I will see every Shakespeare play live (and I seriously want to see some of them in Central Park). Before tonight, I had seen:
"King Lear," with Anthony Hopkins in the title role;
"Macbeth" (yeah, yeah, so jinx me), starring Jonathan Pryce;
Heart of America presentations of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and "Much Ado About Nothing" (the latter twice);
A high school drama performance of "A Midsummer Night's Dream;" (By the middle of the play, we were all snickering at the dirty parts. The kids in the cast, of course, began emphasizing them.)
And a version of "The Tempest" seen at Kansas State University (I cannot, for the life of me, recall the traveling troupe's name) -- presented by a cast of five players, dressed in white and without props or scenery, using only their voices and body languages to indicate the shifts.
Anyway ... as said, tonight was "Othello" -- or most of it.
(Warning: Spoilers follow.)
There was a brief shower in the second act, before Othello strangles Desdemona (but not in time to save Roderigo, which was fine by me. He was portrayed as such a whiny wuss -- which he was, admittedly -- that I was rooting for Iago to run him through and put him out of everyone's misery.)
I really wanted to borrow one of those stage swords and use it to shut up the guy yapping behind me, too. (I wouldn't have stuck him with it, really. Not too hard, anyway.)
Anyway ... check the forecast, if you're in town, and go see a performance before it closes (last night is July 6). And if you see a bald guy scowling at you because you're talking ... wave hi and zip it until the play is over.
(Okay, so go ahead and laugh at the naughty parts ... you know you want to.)
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Cup XXVIII: What's a Synonym for "Argh?"
Tea: Apricot Caramel with Honey
Music: Autumn's Grey Solace, "Falling Sky"
Time: Early Afternoon
It's raining today. Suits the feel of things right now.
Typing the phrase "kill your thesaurus" into a Yahoo search produces this result. AltaVista, same thing. In Google, it's only slightly more productive.
Something very wrong with that shortage. Because, despite the name, synonyms aren't. Words, as with any other coloring/flavoring agent, have separate and crucial shadings/tastes. Use the wrong one, and risk everything tumbling down.
It's a lesson even a word person (he said, looking in the mirror) needs to remember more often.
Today's story:
Fitz-James O'Brien, "The Lost Room"
Music: Autumn's Grey Solace, "Falling Sky"
Time: Early Afternoon
It's raining today. Suits the feel of things right now.
Typing the phrase "kill your thesaurus" into a Yahoo search produces this result. AltaVista, same thing. In Google, it's only slightly more productive.
Something very wrong with that shortage. Because, despite the name, synonyms aren't. Words, as with any other coloring/flavoring agent, have separate and crucial shadings/tastes. Use the wrong one, and risk everything tumbling down.
It's a lesson even a word person (he said, looking in the mirror) needs to remember more often.
Today's story:
Fitz-James O'Brien, "The Lost Room"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
