Monday, November 19, 2007
I know that the above was written by John Steinbeck. I know it is a short novel, one that could probably go down in one good read. And that is it, that is all I remember about Mice & Men. That is all I remember because we are all so memento.
But even without knowing anything about the novel, the title, Mice & Men is enough. It brings to mind the maze we all find ourselves in, round and round, and up and down, going fast to Erewhon. And yet each of us is so special, each a Man.
It was a beautiful Fall day. There was the special golden hue all about that set one’s mind to wandering and wondering. The holidays are close. Thanksgiving is less than a week away and then one, two, three, Christmas.
I changed one of the vestments in the temple, in the church, in the place that has my heart. I changed one of the applique flags I have in back. From a welcoming for the hummers to an applique with a little season’s cheer.
And while I with hands and eyes and other things human induced this transformation, all about there was the wonder of the day. The sky, why is it, so blue, and the down to bump and slow, yellow like gold, leaves, and again wonder for the mind to roam, wonder for the mind to wander. All this and heaven too and I loved it.
I did it. I put the new holiday flag out in the back and came inside to do other things. The other things being starting a roast with potatoes in the crockpot. And then, and then I happened, happenstance(a French movie with subtitles that I just recently viewed) , to look out the back window. I wasn’t that pleased with the new applique flag and wanted another opinion. And there He was.
So pristine and proud He did reign. There he was just for me, my hawk, Erasmus. He was there and I was elsewhere but I endeavored to make the moment ours.
I rushed up to my room and put memory cards in both of my cameras, a Panasonic Z20 and a Nikon D50. Slowly I ventured once again to the window and Erasmus was still there, proud and with puck. I can’t remember which camera I used first, but in burst mode, I took some snaps through the blinds, first with one camera and then the other.
And then I did it again.
It wasn’t perfect but it was the best I could do. We have a saying for this – “Take lots of snaps and some of them will be good.”
For the longest of times there was just the both of us. I with my camera and Erasmus. He enjoying the day and I just enjoying. But as in the beginning, is now, and every shall be, A ≠ A, things changed. Erasmus flew away.
After snapping out I went upstairs to review my catch. Not perfect but the best I could do. Enough to help me remember the golden hues and wonder and Erasmus.
It was sometime last week when I saw it, a hawk’s feather. It wasn’t the best. It was (I am stymied here. I need a special word. The feather was not the best. It was yuck and faded and I almost didn’t want to touch it?) Still a hawk’s feather is rare and I was pleased.
I believe in The Earth Mother. She is with us always. When She is pleased she shares with us.
And then I thought perhaps, perhaps for me a better feathers. So I went outside and up the little hill on the left and over to where Erasmus had been. No feather.
And there is a bit more to this tail. Several weeks ago I was outside. I happened to look up and there it was, a little one, a little mouse. I was struck and taken by it curiosity. It would duck down for just a bit and then come out again and see me and not knowing hide again. It did this several times.
© 2007 big box industries
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Up a little after 8 am EST with the itch and twitch to do a little something.
First I went out to one of the most erstwhile (I am using erstwhile incorrectly here but I thought it would be rather a lark. So much better than “meanwhile I was still thinking”.) blogs on the internet, Fresh Fish. Snaps, the author of Fish, is either a 2 or 3, standard deviations from the mean.
I came upon his Raven entry and thought I too would give it a go. I cut and pasted the first 5 verses from the poem and will try in the next couple of days to evermore, not pen to paper, but verse to mind, learn the sucker.
So I cut and pasted and printed.
Next I decided to give my Panasonic RR-US360 a go. The Pana is a small digital recording device. I started to listen to all the crap I had saved for posterity. You know, I do it because I am so, how do you say it in English, memento.
Entry 6, entries are arranged in folders, so it was really folder 6, had Plum and I when we did the burgers and fries thing at Spondivits last week. Spondivits, Cumming, had been rebuilt after a recent fire and this was Plum and I’s first visit since the restoration. The recording of us talking about the new decor and such was ok but there was to much background noise for it to be something worth saving. Deleted.
About this time I did a Eureka and plugged my Sony portable speakers into the Panasonic RR-US360 small digital recorder. Not a best but a better (good, better, best).
Folder 5 contained nothing. I guess I was going to record something sagacious and then thought better of it. Deleted.
Folder 4 contained me in the car, coming back from Kroger after buying some ham and such. Not really what one would consider top drawer – deleted.
Folder 3 was me in the car again getting ready to go to Kroger – deleted.
Folder 2 was a long recording of Plum coming home after having a day out filled with adventures. In the recording she had been to the market and had bought some beautiful red apples. I made mention of the nursery rhyme –
Home again, home again, jiggety, jig.”
And here, an erudite scholar, a man of broad exposure to book and verse was stymied. I didn’t know what came next.
So what could a poor boy do? When you sing in a rock & roll band sometimes the words aren’t that important but erstwhile I was still thinking.
So I did a Goog.
I got this from all places, Amherst –
Home again, home again, dancing a jig;
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog;
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog;
To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again, market is done.”
Least you think this is the definitive version –
Home again, home again, dancing a jig.
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog;
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.”
So now you can get jiggy with the jiggety with impunity and if anyone caps your ass you can Amherst the sucker.
Obiter Dictum – At this point I was Kubla Khanned or maybe Xanadued. Actually I was double Kubbed. I heard Plum pulling into the garage which would necessitate a stopping to greet and also I felt the urge to have some pictorial evidence to support this entry.
© 2007 big box industries