tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78046235288614772492024-03-07T18:07:51.047-08:00The Old MuleThe Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-19274024231137295802010-06-28T18:33:00.000-07:002010-06-28T18:34:32.613-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOqfA3K_z5VblRNKjHIG3FX4o6yG7NfP0qcUnzokY2GD4XTo2V6bfWQRamdq2nWjeRznWO-Vo0xwV80pFN6BmLol3M_7pgEGXajOrsZK8ACfzuuhyarldI10JdGY4JTFa2ULiYiIylnsm/s1600/IMG_3497.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOqfA3K_z5VblRNKjHIG3FX4o6yG7NfP0qcUnzokY2GD4XTo2V6bfWQRamdq2nWjeRznWO-Vo0xwV80pFN6BmLol3M_7pgEGXajOrsZK8ACfzuuhyarldI10JdGY4JTFa2ULiYiIylnsm/s320/IMG_3497.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488002951813653810" /></a>The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-35783071290105530312010-06-28T18:30:00.000-07:002010-06-28T18:31:13.383-07:00I just got back from a great journey from Boulder, CO down through Taos, over to Sante Fe, up though the four corners, Navajo land and the painted hand wilderness, Canyon of the Ancients, Lowery land, Pueblo III and Anasazi and B'lisi and Hovenweep Windlerness, Durango and all along the Animus, back road in to Ouray then Telluride, stopping by Little Molas Lake and really not remembering anything as breathtaking as that. And this summer all I can think of is the Galloping Goose train and how it must have felt to come barrelling down from the San Juan Forest with a wagon full of beer, butter, wheat and whiskey. But what more is there for a southern fellow to do when he is out by himself with a spinning mind at 12,000 feet, nowhere to be and a stack of county road maps.<br /><br />-- <br /><br />Indian Peaks, 29 degrees<br /><br />This June, this second month of summer,<br />I walked in to a high mountain town to hide<br />away for as long as needed, and let my body<br />turn back to snow. This is the white-lightness<br />of escape, and no one knows how it feels to be <br />damp, hung in a cedar, watching moose near <br />the edge of this glacial lake, mirror plane above<br />such deep cool well of more than thirst, enough <br />for a man to fall from the tree for, to fall from <br />where he was hung, drift down with a slow dive <br />of gravity, not fast enough for pain. Now the white <br />suit melts, now I am back down again and the phone <br />rings in song set by my daughter, and lunch is mine <br />to make, man alone at home, with a window to look <br />out from and that distant feeling of being in the wrong <br />place, nothing right yet, but with night coming, and that <br />is the best time to become light again, become snow.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-92007723018468937292009-02-03T20:06:00.001-08:002009-02-03T20:06:47.676-08:00Ezra Pound<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Taking Leave of a Friend</span><br /><br /> <br />Blue mountains to the north of the walls,<br />White river winding about them;<br />Here we must make separation<br />And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.<br /><br />Mind like a floating wide cloud,<br />Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances<br />Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.<br />Our horses neigh to each others<br />as we are departing.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-39893589625146350172008-04-28T06:22:00.001-07:002008-11-06T19:03:58.124-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qwO67UCsy0GQAHICUFMUbrpzEV8UIhK3ZmkCGu2z5TbynbbZYIry8zBiOnC5PqasSEKEa1PWE7mE2VgiCLdr6ss_nonIInXUyupLLA9r9CZp4XI4R5L17zdOyd46HvMt3AqIa58BJ40J/s1600-h/cuar01_wolcott0804.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qwO67UCsy0GQAHICUFMUbrpzEV8UIhK3ZmkCGu2z5TbynbbZYIry8zBiOnC5PqasSEKEa1PWE7mE2VgiCLdr6ss_nonIInXUyupLLA9r9CZp4XI4R5L17zdOyd46HvMt3AqIa58BJ40J/s400/cuar01_wolcott0804.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194286034471477890" /></a>The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-86142832300824725422008-04-27T16:23:00.000-07:002008-04-27T16:24:52.235-07:00Bob DylanThe following is from Vanity Fair Online:<br /><br />--<br /><br />Inside Dylan's Brain<br /><br />By Duff McDonald<br /><br />People have long wondered what goes on in Bob Dylan’s mind. But if you pay attention to what the recent Pulitzer Prize-winner says and plays on his XM satellite-radio program, Theme Time Radio Hour, you can actually get a pretty good idea. Here, by cataloguing the themes has chosen for the episodes, the artists he has favored, and Dylan’s other preferences and quirks, Vanity Fair has constructed a revealing portrait of America’s most enigmatic musician. Below is a near-exhaustive, up-to-date list, expanding on the version printed in our May issue.<br /><br />The Voice<br /><br />Ellen Barkin<br /><br />The Themes<br /><br />Weather, Mother, Drinking, Baseball, Coffee<br />Jail, Fathers, Wedding, Divorce, Summer<br />Flowers, Cars, Rich Man/Poor Man, The Devil, Eyes<br />Dogs, Friends & Neighbors, Radio, The Bible, Musical Maps<br />School, Telephone, Water, Time, Guns<br />Halloween, Dance, Sleep, Food, Thanksgiving Leftovers<br />Tennessee, Moon, Countdown, Christmas, Women’s Names<br />Hair, Musical Instruments, Luck, Tears, Laughter<br />Heart, Shoes, Color, Texas, Trains<br />Fools, New York, Death & Taxes, Spring Cleaning, Hello<br />Youth & Age, Days of the Week, California, Classic Rock, Cadillac<br />Head to Toe, Smokin’, Dreams, Party, Countdown<br />One, Walkin’, Around the World, Lock & Key, Mail<br />President’s Day, Doctors, Danger, Birds, Joe<br />Heat, Cold<br /><br />Artists He Plays<br /><br />Nine times: George Jones<br /><br />Eight times: Tom Waits, Dinah Washington<br /><br />Seven times: Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys, Louis Armstrong, Van Morrison<br /><br />Six times: Buddy Johnson, Elvis Costello, Frank Sinatra, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Louis Jordan, Muddy Waters, Porter Wagoner, The Rolling Stones<br /><br />Five times: Anita O’Day, Buck Owens, Howlin’ Wolf, James Brown, The Stanley Brothers<br /><br />Four times: Bessie Smith, Big Joe Turner, Billie Holiday, Charlie Poole, Chuck Berry, Ella Johnson, Fats Domino, Fats Waller, Irma Thomas, June Christy, Little Walter, Loretta Lynn, Los Lobos, Prince Buster, Randy Newman, Ray Charles, Slim Gaillard, Smiley Lewis, Sonny Boy Williamson II, The Beatles, The Carter Family, The Everly Brothers, The Louvin Brothers, Wynonie Harris<br /><br />Three times: Bo Diddley, Bobbie Womack, Charlie Parker, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson, Elvis Presley, Ernest Tubb, Etta James, Hank Ballard, Hank Penny, Hank Snow, Harry Nilsson, Huey “Piano” Smith, Jerry Lee Lewis, Jimmy Rodgers, Johnny Tyler, Joni Mitchell, Lefty Frizzell, Lou Reed, Memphis Slim, Merle Haggard, Milton Brown & His Musical Brownies, Otis Redding, Ricky Nelson, Roy Brown, Roy Orbison, Ruth Brown, Ry Cooder, Sam Cooke, Sir Douglas Quintet, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, The Clash, The Drifters, The Ink Spots, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, The Lovin’ Spoonful, The Staples Singers, Wanda Jackson, Warren Smith, Webb Pierce, Willie Nelson<br /><br />Brothers<br /><br />The Allen Brothers, The Bailes Brothers, The Chambers Brothers, The Clancy Brothers, The Everly Brothers, The Flying Burrito Brothers, The Lebron Brothers, The Louvin Brothers, The Maddox Brothers, The Mills Brothers, The Monroe Brothers, The Neville Brothers, The Osborne Brothers, The Stanley Brothers<br /><br />Sisters<br /><br />The Andrews Sisters, The Davis Sisters, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Sister Wynona Carr, Sister Rose<br /><br />“Little” People<br /><br />Little Eva, Little Johnny Taylor, Little Junior Parker, Little Millette<br />Little Milton, Little Miss Cornshucks, Little Richard, Little Walter, Little Willie John<br /><br />The Playboys<br /><br />Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys , Vince Taylor & The Playboys , L.C. Smith & His Southern Playboys , Jimmie Revard & His Oklahoma Playboys<br /><br />The Years<br /><br />—50% the songs he has played were recorded before 1960.<br /><br />—Only 9% of the songs he has played were recorded in the 1980s or more recently.<br /><br />Guest Commentators<br /><br />Six times: Penn Jillette, Tom Waits<br /><br />Five times: Billy Vera, Deke Dickerson, Elvis Costello, Richard Lewis<br /><br />Three times: Jack White, Jimmy Kimmel, John C. Reilly, Luke Wilson, Marianne Faithful, Matt Groening, Peter Wolf, Ricky Gervais<br /><br />Poets References<br /><br />Aesop, W.H. Auden, St. Basil, Bertolt Brecht, Gwendolyn Brooks<br />Charles Bukowski, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Gregory Corso, Stephen Crane<br />e.e. cummings, TS Eliot, Robert Frost, Ted Hughes, C.S. Lewis<br />Christopher Marlowe, Sylvia Plath, Alexander Pope, Rainer Maria Rilke<br />Anne Sexton, Shakespeare, Gertrude Stein, Jonathan Swift<br />Alfred Lord Tennyson, Dylan Thomas, William Butler Yeats<br /><br />Authors Referenced<br /><br />Cervantes, Anton Chekhov, Herman Hesse, Oliver Wendell Holmes, James Joyce, Jack Kerouac, Marcel Proust, Edgar Allan Poe<br /><br />Playwrights Referenced<br /><br />Molière, George Bernard Shaw<br /><br />Movies Referenced<br /><br />As Good As It Gets, An Affair to Remember, The Ballad of Cable Hogue<br />Barfly, Blow, Blue Hawaii, Blue Velvet, Bonnie & Clyde<br />Casablanca, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Charlie Chan’s Greatest Case<br />Chinatown, Coal Miner’s Daughter, Coffee and Cigarettes<br />Cool Hand Luke, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, For a Few Dollars More<br />Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, The Godfather, It’s a Wonderful Life<br />Life of Brian, The Maltese Falcon, Oh Brother, Where Art Thou<br />The Lost Weekend, The Night of the Hunter, Night Train, Paper Moon<br />Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, The Player, Raising Arizona, Rock & Roll High School<br />Rocky III, Runaway Train, The Shawshank Redemption, Sleeping Beauty<br />Snow White, Spinal Tap, Strangers on a Train, Streetcar Named Desire<br />Sweet Smell of Success, Taxi Driver, The Ten Commandments, The 39 Steps<br />The Wild Bunch<br /><br />Television Shows Referenced<br /><br />The Beverly Hillbillies, Chico and the Man, The Ed Sullivan Show<br />Hee Haw, Josie and the Pussycats, The Honeymooners<br />Leave it to Beaver, Lil’ Abner, Welcome Back Kotter<br />Sanford and Son, Roots, 60 Minutes<br />The Simpsons, The Sopranos, The Tonight Show, The Wire<br /><br />History Lessons From Bob<br /><br />Famous Electric Chairs (e.g. Old Sparky and Gruesome Gerty)<br /><br />Famous People Who Were Cheerleaders (e.g. Ann Margaret, George W. Bush)<br /><br />Famous People Who Were Valedictorians (e.g. Cindy Crawford, William Rehnquist, Weird Al – “I wonder if William Rehnquist gave the same type of speech as Weird Al. Somehow I doubt it.”)<br /><br />Famous People Who Had Burials At Sea (e.g. Steve McQueen, Ingrid Bergman, Vincent Price, Jerry Garcia)<br /><br />History of the Wobblies, the U.S. labor organization<br /><br />People Who Died While Playing Cards (e.g. Wild Bill Hickok, Al Jolson, Buster Keaton, the gangster Arnold Rothstein)<br /><br />Famous People Who Drove Cadillacs (e.g. Pope Pius XII, Teddy Roosevelt, Bill Clinton)<br /><br />History of Constantinople<br /><br />Useful Tips<br /><br />How to Hang Dry Wall<br /><br />What to Pack When You’re Traveling<br /><br />How to Walk Like A Runway Model<br /><br />How to Give Yourself Dreadlocks<br /><br />One-Liners<br /><br />“Hope all you listeners won’t accuse me of cronyism just because I occasionally play records by people I know.”<br /><br />“The distinctive voice of Aaron Neville. A lot of people think we sing the same.”<br /><br />Re: Gene Autry’s Cowboy Code—“I’m not ashamed to say that I live my life according to that code. Quite a man, that Gene Autry.”<br /><br />“Fred Astaire, the smoothest dancer known to man.”<br /><br />Re: Berna Dean—“Here’s a woman who sure doesn’t sound like she sleeps alone.”<br /><br />“John Lee….one of those guys that always sounds better without a band. Thirteen bars here, eleven bars there, nine there. Doesn’t matter to him. Nobody can do more with less than John Lee Hooker.”<br /><br />Re: Endless Sleep – “This next song is not for the faint of heart.”<br /><br />Re: Johnny Hicks – “A man who sounds like he’s got a smile in his voice.”<br /><br />“America is certainly the great melting pot. Where else could someone like Slim Gaillard sing a tribute to matzoh balls and gefilte fish? It’s the kind of thing that makes me proud to be an American. Sing it, Slim.”<br /><br />“It’s a quarter of a million miles from earth to the moon, and there’s no one I’d rather go with than Dinah Washington.”<br /><br />Re: Six Pack to Go – “One of the great beer drinking songs of all time.”<br /><br />Re: Leadbelly – “One of the few ex-cons who recorded a popular children’s album.”<br /><br />“A lot of people who play one kind won’t play with people who play another kind, but me personally, I never understood any kind of border patrol when it comes to music.”<br /><br />“Some people call Bob [Seger] the poor man’s Bruce Springsteen, but personally, I always thought Bruce was the rich man’s Bob Seger. Love ‘em both, though.”<br /><br />Re: Red Headed Woman – “Boy, you hear a record like that, and you wish more Rockabilly bands had trumpets.”<br /><br />Re: How You Gonna Get Respect—“A political statement you can dance to.”<br /><br />Re: Eddy Dugash and the Ah-Ha Playboys: “Sometimes you just play a record because you like the name of the band. I love the name of this band, but I also love the record.”<br /><br />“Not all songs about crying are necessarily sad.”<br /><br />Re: Robert Parker’s Barefootin’ – “The man who wrote the national anthem of shoelessness.”<br /><br />Re: Jimmy Lewis – “He sounds as bad off as a rubber-nosed woodpecker in a petrified forest.”<br /><br />“Willie Nelson’s tour bus runs on cooking oil….I’ve toured with Willie…sometimes late at night you can see us, I’m filling up my tank at the gas station and he’s filling his up at Denny’s.”<br /><br />“I always liked songs with parentheses in the title.”<br /><br />Re: Dinah Washington’s Manhattan – “If there every was a love song to a city, I’d say it was this one.”<br /><br />Re: Prince Buster’s Taxation – “Like all great artists, he was able to turn things that bothered him into three minutes of musical pleasure. Like here.”<br /><br />Re: Porter Wagoner’s Skid Row Joe – “Next up, a very sad song. A recitation. A sermon. A speechifying testification. From Porter Wagoner, telling a tale of a sad man down on his luck in the dirty part of town.”<br /><br />Re: Tex William’s Brother Drop Dead – “Some people die too soon. Others, you’re kind of hoping. Tex Williams has a song for such a situation.”<br /><br />Re: Sinatra singing Summer Wind—“West Coast weather is the weather of catastrophe. The Santa Ana winds are like the winds of the apocalypse. But the summer wind that Frank’s singing about may be a little lighter. Come on in, Frank.”<br /><br />Re: Charles Aznavour—“The Frank Sinatra of France…sings in six languages – French, English, Italian. He’s written over a thousand songs…I only know about half of them.”<br /><br />Re: Memphis Minnie—“Me and My Chauffeur Blues. One of the great blues songs of all time, one of the great car songs of all time, one of the great chauffeur songs of all time, sung by one the great old ladies of all time - Memphis Minnie.”<br /><br />Re: Joni Mitchell—“Joni and I go back a long ways. Not all the way back, but pretty far. I’ve been in a car with Joni. Joni was driving a Lincoln. Excellent driver. I felt safe.”<br /><br />Re: Howlin’ Wolf—“This next song is entirely without flaw and meets all the supreme standards of excellence.”<br /><br />Re: Hank Williams—“One of the greatest songwriters who ever lived was Hank Williams, of course. Hank could be headstrong and willful, a backslider and a reprobate, no stranger to bad deeds. However, underneath all of that, he was compassionate and moralistic.”<br /><br />Deep Thoughts<br /><br />“I don’t trust a man who doesn’t tear up a little watching Old Yeller.”<br /><br />“All of our shows are for truckers, if not about truckers.”<br /><br />“They say the earth’s warmin’ up. Be careful of that global warming, and wear your sunscreen.”<br /><br />“Music City USA – one of the only places where a banjo player can make a six figure income.”<br /><br />“You know, every shut-eye ain’t sleep. Sometimes you’re sleeping in the ground, taking a dirt nap, saying the big Goodbye.”<br /><br />“The Harmonica is the world’s best-selling musical instrument. You’re welcome.”<br /><br />“Sometimes when you look at a menu, it’s hard to decide what to get. Life is like that, full of difficult choices.”<br /><br />“Lipstick traces on cigarettes can get you in trouble or remind you of the wonders of the night before.”<br /><br />“Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me…as opposed to when you grow up and you learn that…the pen is mightier than the sword. The world is fill of little contradictions like that.”<br /><br />“I leave you with the words of Benjamin Franklin. ‘He that is of the opinion money will do everything may well be suspected of doing everything for money.’ Thank you, Ben. Peace out.”<br /><br />Bad Jokes<br /><br />“My friend’s wife is a really bad cook. I broke a tooth on her coffee.”<br /><br />“I once had a friend who said liquor will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no liquor.”<br /><br />“A giraffe can go a long time without water. But he wants to see a menu right away.”<br /><br />“I gave a bald-headed friend a comb. You know what he said? ‘I’ll never part with it.’”<br /><br />“I don’t condone [blonde] jokes. I just repeat them in the public interest.”<br /><br />“I want everybody to go out and paint their cars red and white tonight. We want a PINK CAR NATION.”<br /><br />Recipes<br /><br />Mint Julep<br />Four mint sprigs<br />3 oz of bourbon<br />1 tablespoon of powdered sugar<br />1 tablespoon water<br />Put the mint leaves, powdered sugar and water in a Collins glass. Fill the glass with shaved or crushed ice and then add bourbon. Top that off with more ice. I like to garnish mine with a mint sprig. Serve it with a straw. Two or three of those and anything sounds good!<br /><br />Rum and Coca-Cola<br />Let me give you my recipe for a rum and Coca-Cola. Take a tall glass, put some ice in it, two fingers of Bombay rum, and a bottle of Coca-Cola. Shake it up well and go drink it in the sunshine!<br /><br />BBQ<br />1 cup tomato sauce<br />1 cup vinegar<br />5 tablespoons Worcestershire<br />1 tablespoon butter<br />½ small onion<br />dash black pepper<br />cayenne pepper<br />1 ½ teaspoons salt<br />half cup water<br />Mix it all together in a large pan. Bring it to a quick boil. Reduce the heat and let it simmer for 10 minutes. You can also figure out your own secret ingredient and dump it to the mix. I like about three fingers of Tennessee sipping whiskey.<br /><br />Figgy Pudding<br />4 oz of plain flour<br />a pinch of salt<br />4 oz bread crumbs<br />4 oz shredded suet<br />1 teaspoon mixed spice<br />1 teaspoon baking powder<br />3 oz dark soft brown sugar<br />8 oz chopped dried figs<br />finely grated rind & the juice of one lemon<br />2 tablespoon milk<br />2 beaten eggs<br />“Sift salt and flour together, then mix with all the remaining dry ingredients. Add the figs, lemon rind and juice, milk and beaten eggs. Beat them well. The mixture should have a soft dropping consistency. Put into a greased two-pint pudding basin, cover securely, and steam for three hours. I like it served with heated golden syrup topping, and a generous pour of custard. Makes me hungry just talking about it. My engineer Tex Carbone likes vanilla ice cream on it. I don’t understand that at all.”<br /><br />The Perfect Meatball<br />3 minced cloves garlic<br />¼ cup vegetable oil (for frying)<br />1 pound ground meat (equal parts beef, pork, veal)<br />¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese<br />9 Saltine crackers, finely crushed<br />½ teaspoon salt<br />black pepper<br />oregano<br />dried basil<br />1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley<br />¼ cup water<br />1 egg<br />1 teaspoon tomato paste<br />“Heat the oil over a low heat in a large Dutch oven. In a big bowl, add the meat, garlic, cheese, crackers, and spices. Mix lightly with your fingers. Don’t be shy—get into it. In a small bowl, whisk the water, the egg, and the tomato paste. Add the egg mixture to the meat mixture. Mix it lightly with your fingers. Form it into drum shapes, or balls. Cook in batches, over medium high heat, until its browned on both sides. That will be about five minutes total. Serve ‘em up with some potatoes, or some spaghetti, or just make a sandwich out of them. You're gonna love 'em."The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-62115107162650405322008-01-31T16:45:00.000-08:002008-01-31T16:50:00.163-08:00Rumi - Love DogsThis is just brilliant. It moves me beyond words. So, in honor of the official ending of my marriage to a truly wonderful, kind and remarkable person, which becomes final tomorrow, here it goes:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UF4_KZfIfVI">Coleman Barks reading Love Dogs by Rumi</a><br /><br />I need words like these to believe in.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-63942741194801654232008-01-11T12:53:00.000-08:002008-01-11T13:00:49.913-08:00FridayI am off to the the mountains with a bit of Hemingway and a fire-starter log. Cold. Wet. Way out of the city, thank lord.<br /><br />Does anyone remember that story "a clean, well lighted place?" I think that is the title. I don't know if there is a more perfect short story. <br /><br />We should do away with these long tomes. Enough is enough. Much can be said in a page or two. And there is never enough to be done.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-21471297936350017672007-10-13T08:48:00.000-07:002007-10-13T08:54:04.020-07:00Poem: "The Haunted Palace" by Edgar Allan Poe, an excerpt from The Fall of the House of Usher.<br /><br /><br /><br />The Haunted Palace<br /><br />In the greenest of our valleys,<br /> By good angels tenanted,<br />Once a fair and stately palace<br /> (Radiant palace) reared its head.<br />In the monarch Thought's dominion<br /> It stood there!<br />Never seraph spread a pinion<br /> Over fabric half so fair.<br /><br />Banners yellow, glorious, golden,<br /> On its roof did float and flow<br />(This, all this, was in the olden<br /> Time long ago);<br />And every gentle air that dallied<br /> In that sweet day,<br />Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,<br /> A wingèd odor went away.<br /><br />Wanderers in that happy valley<br /> Through two luminous windows, saw<br />Spirits moving musically<br /> To a lute's well-tuned law;<br />Round about a throne where, sitting<br /> (Porphyrogene!)<br />In state his glory well befitting,<br /> The ruler of the realm was seen.<br /><br />And all with pearl and ruby glowing<br /> Was the fair palace door,<br />Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,<br /> And sparkling evermore,<br />A troop of echoes, whose sweet duty<br /> Was but to sing,<br />In voices of surpassing beauty,<br /> The wit and wisdom of their king.<br /><br />But evil things, in robes of sorrow,<br /> Assailed the monarch's high estate<br />(Ah! let us mourn, for never morrow<br /> Shall dawn upon him, desolate);<br />And round about his home the glory<br /> That blushed and bloomed<br />Is but a dim-remembered story<br /> Of the old time entombed.<br /><br />And travellers, now, within that valley,<br /> Through the red-litten windows see<br />Vast forms that move fantastically<br /> To a discordant melody;<br />While, like a ghastly rapid river,<br /> Through the pale door<br />A hideous throng rush out forever,<br /> And laugh - but smile no more.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-69471145273872965312007-09-30T08:08:00.002-07:002007-09-30T08:12:27.231-07:00Woloch on FaithWoloch has here composed a perfect and modern poem. This sort of thing has been on my mind a lot lately. In fact, with the fall comes a chance to shed off and burrow down. Maybe this year I will finally become a bear.<br /><br /><br /><br />"On Faith" by Cecilia Woloch<br /><br /><br />On Faith<br /><br />How do people stay true to each other?<br />When I think of my parents all those years<br />in the unmade bed of their marriage, not ever<br />longing for anything else or: no, they must<br />have longed; there must have been flickerings,<br />stray desires, nights she turned from him,<br />sleepless, and wept, nights he rose silently,<br />smoked in the dark, nights that nest of breath<br />and tangled limbs must have seemed<br />not enough. But it was. Or they just<br />held on. A gift, perhaps, I've tossed out,<br />having been always too willing to fly<br />to the next love, the next and the next, certain<br />nothing was really mine, certain nothing<br />would ever last. So faith hits me late, if at all;<br />faith that this latest love won't end, or ends<br />in the shapeless sleep of death. But faith is hard.<br />When he turns his back to me now, I think:<br />disappear. I think: not what I want. I think<br />of my mother lying awake in those arms<br />that could crush her. That could have. Did not.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-38982812929225893992007-08-20T08:37:00.000-07:002007-08-20T08:38:47.199-07:00Nan CohenSomeone else's stroke of genius on a Monday. <br /><br />"Girder" by Nan Cohen, from Rope Bridge.<br /><br />--<br /><br />Girder<br /><br />The simplest of bridges, a promise<br />that you will go forward,<br /><br />that you can come back.<br />So you cross over.<br /><br />It says you can come back.<br />So you go forward.<br /><br />But even if you come back<br />then you must go forward.<br /><br />I am always either going back<br />or coming forward. There is always<br /><br />something I have to carry,<br />something I leave behind.<br /><br />I am a figure in a logic problem,<br />standing on one shore<br /><br />with the things I cannot leave,<br />looking across at what I cannot have.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-36212637851053532842007-07-30T18:22:00.001-07:002007-07-30T18:25:10.842-07:001916"The question of the final stamp, the pressure which fixes the mark, is yet to be determined."<br /><br />Henry JamesThe Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-62670900422649720442007-07-16T16:45:00.000-07:002007-07-17T05:18:24.868-07:00KinnellOkay. Most of you know me pretty well by now. You know that I carry on from time to time, and tend to exaggerate, and make wild claims unbacked by reason. Well put all that aside and listen closely. Galway Kinnell is one of our planet's greatest living poets. I promise. <br /><br />Here is one I enjoy reading out loud.<br /><br />--<br /><br />"Field Notes" by Galway Kinnell, from Strong Is Your Hold<br /><br />Field Notes<br /><br />When we were out at dinner<br />last night and a dim mood<br />from the day hung on in me<br />that neither the quenelles<br />de brochet nor the Pignan<br />Châteauneuf-du-Pape<br />2000 could quite lift,<br />she disappeared and plucked<br />out of the air somewhere<br />some amusement or comfort<br />and, quickly back again,<br />laid it in our dinner talk.<br /><br />When it was time to leave<br />and she scanned the restaurant<br />for the restroom, she went up<br />on her toes, like the upland plover,<br />and in the taxi home we kissed<br />a mint from the maitre d's desk<br />from my mouth to hers,<br />like cedar waxwings.<br /><br />When I squished in bare feet<br />up to the bedroom, I found her<br />already dropped off, bedside lamp still on,<br />Theodore Xeonphon Barber's<br />The Human Nature of Birds<br />lying open face-down under her chin.<br /><br />Gazing at her I saw<br />that she was gazing back,<br />having been sleeping awake<br />as the tree swallow does.<br /><br />I went around the foot<br />of the bed and climbed in<br />and slid toward the side lined<br />with the warmth and softness<br />of herself, and we clasped each other<br />like no birds I know of.<br /><br />Our cries that night were wild,<br />unhinged, not from here,<br />like the common loon's.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-20582964020139293722007-07-11T18:09:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:03:59.013-08:00My Old ManThis might be the best shot I have ever gotten of my dad. He hates photographs, so I had to sneak up on him before dinner up at the mountain house. He is one fine fellow, I might add. Honest, old fashioned and always up for some adventure. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HJcXX_Z0GAZllKmGdVutfu6oUz1Bfq6fGhRHHPDZhnPBrOdteZTFTpQeHggvUgQ8PyskBHg0XbVIYI77ZxHRGp5ZhHiaPdN7EiQXLuFsjN-4mTXHYgx2Jnr6w52cO97p5bcbmpRahNoN/s1600-h/IMG_4052.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HJcXX_Z0GAZllKmGdVutfu6oUz1Bfq6fGhRHHPDZhnPBrOdteZTFTpQeHggvUgQ8PyskBHg0XbVIYI77ZxHRGp5ZhHiaPdN7EiQXLuFsjN-4mTXHYgx2Jnr6w52cO97p5bcbmpRahNoN/s400/IMG_4052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086111958819601122" /></a>The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-40665746097156319272007-07-07T15:40:00.001-07:002007-07-07T15:40:49.732-07:00Just home from a week on both sides of this state. Much to tell. Be back on the horse in a day or two.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-26852093545279168622007-06-22T22:15:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:03:59.284-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdK4y8d0uLXgdCi3Eqb5jPViopbQI6YMCp5wnUzVVza_5RwT0Dx3b-c7PJSsyki-SK0DY6C-9AOZflYFSupLN8qaUWszQE232URCBNa65Hce5DJCyWkYjXwcqN0upNABu9nVUtx2y2osl/s1600-h/IMG_3295.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdK4y8d0uLXgdCi3Eqb5jPViopbQI6YMCp5wnUzVVza_5RwT0Dx3b-c7PJSsyki-SK0DY6C-9AOZflYFSupLN8qaUWszQE232URCBNa65Hce5DJCyWkYjXwcqN0upNABu9nVUtx2y2osl/s400/IMG_3295.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079124288586444914" /></a>The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-34259289033436678832007-06-21T11:36:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:03:59.600-08:00The Canons of June<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3axTl3jtuJJ0D0M3-N_Ft-_yuKM7ll03Bmh3AesIx0ljzNvd58hN3V-BqaznhCX2INwpkNZwauDRpsl4uN0EAQr-wVwu_VvK7KGyrt2cZOMSraaI02WhV3JESjMLh5jurxCaY7Kq5AKpV/s1600-h/-1.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3axTl3jtuJJ0D0M3-N_Ft-_yuKM7ll03Bmh3AesIx0ljzNvd58hN3V-BqaznhCX2INwpkNZwauDRpsl4uN0EAQr-wVwu_VvK7KGyrt2cZOMSraaI02WhV3JESjMLh5jurxCaY7Kq5AKpV/s400/-1.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078588564430712930" /></a><br /><br />from Hunter S. Thompson writing a review of a really fast motorcycle for some magazine:<br /><br />"Some people will tell you that slow is good – and it may be, on some<br />days – but I am here to tell you that fast is better. I’ve always<br />believed this, in spite of the trouble it’s caused me. Being shot out of<br />a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That<br />is why God made fast motorcycles, Bubba…."The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-81186144399192357472007-06-13T09:47:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:03:59.746-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxxOJXqBBSMA37_VgE1qdiytK5abmOHcbE6mYB29Y5DFfKYzhsrWhX8pYtBZVXSqEsANWvG51bVjWDDYKNi0NtmIkdcYFQZQpDB4Wz4MlsY20b1x2XUyExSj_P3CSANQTLWt593tcUPS6/s1600-h/-13.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxxOJXqBBSMA37_VgE1qdiytK5abmOHcbE6mYB29Y5DFfKYzhsrWhX8pYtBZVXSqEsANWvG51bVjWDDYKNi0NtmIkdcYFQZQpDB4Wz4MlsY20b1x2XUyExSj_P3CSANQTLWt593tcUPS6/s400/-13.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075707216900714578" /></a><br /><br /><br />I may be out for a bit. Too much swirling around, and not much of it good. <br /><br />Everything will be okay, though.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-9487776770753832362007-06-11T19:03:00.001-07:002008-11-06T19:04:00.088-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEF-_6WHVvsD28KnndAWU1z8kGbI6D7ooBV85N0PN7RpCa6SLnsAYvbvNWT3dRWrxLeaqPYwumvy66CG7IUuNyyVPsA8jX1s1YABQ8bZQuCqMt6FicuIEKHlE6RmV0AyYLqm5nUmwgtvBj/s1600-h/-14.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEF-_6WHVvsD28KnndAWU1z8kGbI6D7ooBV85N0PN7RpCa6SLnsAYvbvNWT3dRWrxLeaqPYwumvy66CG7IUuNyyVPsA8jX1s1YABQ8bZQuCqMt6FicuIEKHlE6RmV0AyYLqm5nUmwgtvBj/s400/-14.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075707006447317058" /></a><br /><br /><br />Arkansas will take weeks to settle in. I saw a great section of our country, and I need to sieve it through, turn it over, dwell a bit on all those dry spaces, those well worked fields, the hard folks with stories and a small piece of land. When a person is standing in the City, it is so easy to mis-remember how days here pass with slow-steady purpose and all well in good tune and manner.<br /><br />I am back at my wood desk with a lot of new ideas. I hope I can keep a few in place - make them stay. The windows are open tonight. A great rain outside. There is a bit of cool here with the weather - a chance to air things out.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-3979058525049237792007-06-08T01:50:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:00.486-08:00Memphis to Forest City, Arkansas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2HxJwULYKYNDvJYuQcG-Up57rajVlj1j06tibkjPGXP_YMcXUz3Jg9Pw7WdwB2K6hxjz8ZKODW_PwPgNgZqlJlpmDXs22MVja_G_zqGw-tWSznUQ16m4ohEHcMTP8nIFVAE1XpqFz637/s1600-h/95+SELLS+BROTHERS+SIRCUS+C1895.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2HxJwULYKYNDvJYuQcG-Up57rajVlj1j06tibkjPGXP_YMcXUz3Jg9Pw7WdwB2K6hxjz8ZKODW_PwPgNgZqlJlpmDXs22MVja_G_zqGw-tWSznUQ16m4ohEHcMTP8nIFVAE1XpqFz637/s400/95+SELLS+BROTHERS+SIRCUS+C1895.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073613278609993762" /></a>The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-72556716732191942652007-06-06T09:12:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:00.663-08:00Sis Draper<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTG_3KAQ-qWCN3rQzny6W90qzotvEpVb_ko2m9ev4Vqj-UTWqqf23aIX4HIGi7vhwRHPfK6KoHd2d7QVznF8OUENuPcYMyTscQXOaKrPN6ho8J-inJr-u6s276_eunDq0LxWwAam6NpzR/s1600-h/-10.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTG_3KAQ-qWCN3rQzny6W90qzotvEpVb_ko2m9ev4Vqj-UTWqqf23aIX4HIGi7vhwRHPfK6KoHd2d7QVznF8OUENuPcYMyTscQXOaKrPN6ho8J-inJr-u6s276_eunDq0LxWwAam6NpzR/s400/-10.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072985208362430482" /></a><br /><br />I am diligent at work this week. I hope everyone is proud. And I am off to Memphis at daybreak Friday - heading to a wedding. Good folks. Fine town. Deep river. Actually, it is over in farm country, Arkansas. Fields of wheat, chewing tobacco, and home-grown country girls. <br /><br />As Shawn Camp says about his grandmama the fiddle player:<br /><br />She stepped right up and sawed one off<br />And Uncle Cleve he dropped his jaw,<br />Said "she's the best I ever saw<br />She must be from Arkansaw"The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-51895826656656241042007-06-03T10:42:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:00.839-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuwksywPwQ9YTgj70quKYdGTbbNoOdFppuDkVKVg9JMVSrcPD_U5pr51tByHkCM3deHdeJvTX72QdYiMEX-QXjmsc0UITKcaWLHyG2eP8rrN4WJg_-KWIFxozo2xMnr4S_aIwq1EqQLz-/s1600-h/-7.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuwksywPwQ9YTgj70quKYdGTbbNoOdFppuDkVKVg9JMVSrcPD_U5pr51tByHkCM3deHdeJvTX72QdYiMEX-QXjmsc0UITKcaWLHyG2eP8rrN4WJg_-KWIFxozo2xMnr4S_aIwq1EqQLz-/s400/-7.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071895209479835378" /></a><br /><br />If you ever see me dancing, things have taken a terrible turn for the worse. And, well, that was my exact state this past Friday night. I went out on a party, as Johnny Cash used to say, and came home so late it was early. This is not my normal habit, and it has taken all weekend to decompress. Like a deep sea diver working out the nitrogen. I must say, though, it was a great way to rustle up a too-still pond, tilt the canoe a bit. I met up with several old friends and went from one end of town the the other, and at one point I was up on some sort of stage waving my arms about like a wounded bird, coaxing the local roller derby girls to knock back just one more tequila, bump up against each other, just for fun. <br /><br />Oh the life of the modern cynic. And woe the very next day.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-71789778729764772772007-05-28T13:59:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:01.067-08:00Pee Dee River, Georgetown County<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr-zbNn-bkxMTagyuE3CEFVamWOkt-AaaHLp623WK1NxxChScA_Jm2MZj7Rpsbc3bhqy2X9FE_ZrityQUJejIFCNvR9ciBxaOKm-kFV_26YBi0L9nE6Sgr0lnGatgku89sRee8laqOxkYJ/s1600-h/IMG_3956.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr-zbNn-bkxMTagyuE3CEFVamWOkt-AaaHLp623WK1NxxChScA_Jm2MZj7Rpsbc3bhqy2X9FE_ZrityQUJejIFCNvR9ciBxaOKm-kFV_26YBi0L9nE6Sgr0lnGatgku89sRee8laqOxkYJ/s400/IMG_3956.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069719308914710802" /></a><br /><br />I feel renewed. We worked hard on the farm, and everything was so hot, dusty and dry I dove in to the river with my workclothes on. As I pulled up on the dock, I noticed two alligators floating chin deep back in the cypress.<br /><br />My brother cooked a feast of fried chicken, and we celebrated the end of a fine day with beer out on the dock. I think I saw Jupiter near the moon. Sleep came easy.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-78204182539690827402007-05-25T04:34:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:01.548-08:00Carolina Gold<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfRa0NIw0RL9VcdriLAOt_pIuwdIqrVav2RVr3esg-bIStXpMGO3_E7NOo1ZxDN1vFtxrH1oILDw2vUdPEyHv0LjD1QyZ5OptCPZNBFHlOZPmsgD95DPPBC_78ajLtIfHKKC0IMMOkFb0y/s1600-h/-11.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfRa0NIw0RL9VcdriLAOt_pIuwdIqrVav2RVr3esg-bIStXpMGO3_E7NOo1ZxDN1vFtxrH1oILDw2vUdPEyHv0LjD1QyZ5OptCPZNBFHlOZPmsgD95DPPBC_78ajLtIfHKKC0IMMOkFb0y/s320/-11.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068460479770056962" /></a><br /><br />It is Friday, late May. That means it is time to go to our farm near the South Carolina coast and check on the rice crop. The seedlings are about five inches tall now, and if all goes well we should have a wonderful crop this year. This is not normal rice, though. We are one of three small farms that are producing this heirloom variety of aromatic rice. So, what I am getting at is this: I am off to plod around in the mud and beat back mosquitoes.<br /><br />I like this a lot:<br /><br />by Kathleen Jamie, from Waterlight: Selected Poems. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Suitcases</span><br /><br />Piled high in a corner of second-hand store<br />in Toronto: of course,<br />it's an immigrant country. Sometimes<br /><br />all you can take is what you can carry<br />when you run: a photo, some clothes,<br />and the useless dead-weight<br /><br />of your mother tongue.<br />One was repaired<br />with electrician's tapea trade<br /><br />was all a man needed. A girl,<br />well, a girl could get married. Indeed<br />each case opened like an invitation:<br /><br />the shell-pink lining, the knicker<br />like pockets you hook back<br />with a finger to look<br /><br />for the little linked keys.<br />I remember how each held a wraith<br />of stale air, and how the assistant seemed<br /><br />taken aback by my accent;<br />by then, though, I was headed for home,<br />bored, and already pregnant.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-13547780294265462972007-05-22T16:21:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:01.798-08:00Golden Gate<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-JhjYBzqmJ26gIytt7J3dROv05z4lm0XAK1rQay1HdvGz_Jsgy1CLbqbka9VAyDCsBez24Z4bGJLqPlvn4SB3J8fvJO6qVVyxGXnUxuoSSKGAy9CEY9_ZGhOd3OjLaSen_SER4Zv6uvYq/s1600-h/IMG_3739.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-JhjYBzqmJ26gIytt7J3dROv05z4lm0XAK1rQay1HdvGz_Jsgy1CLbqbka9VAyDCsBez24Z4bGJLqPlvn4SB3J8fvJO6qVVyxGXnUxuoSSKGAy9CEY9_ZGhOd3OjLaSen_SER4Zv6uvYq/s320/IMG_3739.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067529610033158386" /></a><br />Rare Coastal Sequoia, that, by the way, shares genetic similarity (one of five relative species remaining) to South Carolina's Bald Cypress. This is in Golden Gate Park's Japanese garden. A quite impressive display. Also, the Acer palmatum sp. (Japanese Maple) to the side is a specimen shipped from Kyoto after WW II, or so I was informed by the kind botanist in the garden that day.<br /><br />Also note species of grumpy mule attempting to smile in a self conscious manner.The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7804623528861477249.post-42155413365866730362007-05-22T06:30:00.000-07:002008-11-06T19:04:02.024-08:00Above the Yellowstone Caldera<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBhsR-UwQzhTAB9S_6ucAF2kEMOIaYcMQQfTlAU2W-5PdceMNCPCX0K08_Tphf0ducw7lZ9y_nQTE8DQoUn-DXr-CgX73_g6lvwPZTThNghXDxRtw_s0psjLPEYLrU4_4HJgCtoz3FxFS/s1600-h/IMG_3487.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBhsR-UwQzhTAB9S_6ucAF2kEMOIaYcMQQfTlAU2W-5PdceMNCPCX0K08_Tphf0ducw7lZ9y_nQTE8DQoUn-DXr-CgX73_g6lvwPZTThNghXDxRtw_s0psjLPEYLrU4_4HJgCtoz3FxFS/s400/IMG_3487.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067377576780814562" /></a>The Old Mulehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09469707883604282375noreply@blogger.com11